


The Justice-Selling Nurse

by Buriko



Category: Akatsuki no Yona | Yona of the Dawn
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Gen, Murder Mystery, who done it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-19
Updated: 2018-12-19
Packaged: 2019-09-22 23:18:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 21,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17069084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Buriko/pseuds/Buriko
Summary: Yoon is a financially struggling nurse and recognizes a trauma victim, Taejun, as someone from his boarding house. The victim’s brother, Kyoga, suspects foul play and offers Yoon money to figure out who caused this. The landlord, Soo-won, discourages Yoon from getting involved, but in order to support himself and his adoptive father Ik-soo, Yoon investigates the suspicious other residents–-and then some.(Don't worry, no one dies.)





	1. The Case of the Knocked Out Neighbor

When I saw his face, I didn’t recognize him. He was just another trauma victim, one of many I had already seen in my twelve-hour shift that drizzly Saturday. The one thing I paid attention to was the gash on the back of his head. Blunt force of some sort, but the sort did not matter. Not at that moment, anyway.

He was out of my hands as fast as he had come in, and I went back to my other patients. An hour later, at 8:18pm, I walked into his room to speak to his next-of-kin who had arrived. His brow was as knit as any other relative that walked through the hospital halls, and the wrinkles drew my attention to the mole on his forehead. He stood immediately and asked, “What happened to him?”

“Calm down. He’s had a hit to the head. Can I get your name, please?”

“Kan Kyoga,” he gulped back his outburst, “I’m Taejun’s older brother.”

The scratches of my pencil halted. Taejun… Kan Taejun?

I put down my clipboard and took a better look at the victim's face. The bandage wrapped around his head and the drool hanging out his mouth was a new look for him, but this was indeed the face of the skeevy man I often passed by on my way to and from home. Kyoga read the look on my face and asked, “Do you know him?”

“I live in the same building.”

“Then what happened to him!?”

“I wouldn’t know that! I haven’t been home all day. Whatever it was, it probably only happened within the past few hours.”

“Then  _who_  would have done it?”

I paused. Kyoga meant exactly what he had asked. Asking him if he suggested foul play would have given me a predictable answer, so I winced to express my doubt to him.

He pressed on. “Show me exactly where he was injured. It’s here, right?” he pointed to Taejun’s skull where it met the pillow.

“Yes. The right parietal bone.”

“It’s the top of his head, isn’t it?”

“Yes—”

I stopped. Taejun never struck me as the brightest or most graceful of people—far from it, in fact—but even  _he_  would have had to do something impressive to give himself an injury there. The only thing I could think of was that he had come in from the rain and slipped on the staircase, but no one ever used the stairs in our musky 5-story building.

Kyoga once again read my face. His eyes narrowed. “When the landlord called me, he said they found him in the alleyway.”

“I’m sorry, this isn’t my job,” I changed the subject before he could watch any other gears churn inside my head. “And my shift was supposed to end twenty minutes ago, so if you don’t mind—”

“Find out what happened!” he snatched my wrist, then fumbled to holding my hands instead. He gazed up, and his voice cracking like a door left ajar. “Please, I’m begging you.”

“You should ask the landlord if you—”

“He asked me to keep it low-key,” he frowned, his glance falling. “He’s already doing me a big favor by letting him stay there. My brother has a history of eviction. He’s not a bad kid, really!”

My eye twitched.  _Kid_? The guy was in his 20’s and couldn’t keep a part-time job for more than a week at a time.

“Terribly irresponsible, but at least he’s… well… Anyway, it wouldn’t surprise me if someone had it out for him.”

“Listen, I don’t want to get involved. My only concern is that he doesn’t die on me.”

“Then don’t let him get killed!” he hissed. He let go of my hands to open his sleek leather wallet, and he slid out all the cash within, crisp as though he had just been to an ATM reserved for only those who had the privilege to see that many zeroes on a single bill. I had never seen, much less felt such waxy cash, which he stuffed into my hands. “I want justice for my brother. Find out who did it, and I’ll triple that. No, I’ll quadruple it!”

My mouth felt dry as I tried to refuse. “I… I can’t.”

“Consider this a down-payment!”

“No—no, I really can’t!” I insisted, forcing the cash back to him. Oh, but I knew I could—I knew I  _could_ , and the thought of all those zeroes on all that other cash if I could prove it! My hands felt cold parting with even that much; if I had held it any longer I wouldn’t have been able to resist. “I’m sorry.”

“No,” he frowned. “It’s alright. Thank you for how much you’ve done for him already. Let me give you my number, call me if you can do anything else.”

* * *

 

It had stopped drizzling, but there were puddles everywhere and the dregs of laundry left hanging out the neighborhood buildings stank with moisture. I got home to the boarding house at 9:04. The hallway had a warm yellow glow, dim enough to hide the age of the little building, but the elevator was as sturdy as it likely always had been. I was about to hit the ‘up’ button when the doors opened, and other man who lived on the second floor—Taejun’s neighbor across the hall—stepped out in his sweats and headband. “Oh, hello there,” he said, “Yoon, right?”

“Yes. Mr. An, right?”

“Please, call me Joon-gi,” he gave me a squinty smile. “Nice that the rain finally let up, isn’t it? I hate to go running so late, but there’s been no other choice.”

I wasn’t one much for small talk, but I couldn’t resist pointing out the obvious. “You could run up and down the stairs.”

“Please! They reek. I’ll take my chances with the muggers.”

Joon-gi nodded his head as he trotted off in expensive shoes and poor form, and I was left alone again the hallway. True, no one usually used the stairwell for anything, but why would it reek? Since Kyoga had planted the idea in my head that there had been an attempted murder outside the building, my first sarcastic but nagging thought was that there was a completed one to find inside. Not that I anticipated it, but I thought I’d feel better taking a look to be completely sure.

Going to the stairwell made me feel shifty, as though I was the suspicious one. There was no reason to feel that way–-no one was there to see me. I checked over my shoulders anyway before pushing against the heavy door.

“Yes?”

“Ah!” I shrieked. My heart pounded as though a piece of it shot to every part of my body. An instant later I recognized the face in the stairwell, and the person attached to it. He was wearing a baggy t-shirt and shorts and flip-flops and had his untamed hair draped over one shoulder. I had caught him in the middle of mopping the stairs. It was my landlord, Soo-won.

“I was pretty startled too,” he smiled, though nothing made him seem spooked. “Do you take the stairs, Yoon? That’s pretty healthy of you.”

“Not usually. Do you usually mop them?”

“Sometimes, on a whim,” he cheerily went back to his work, humming some happy tune. I watched, and he stopped to look back at me. “What is it?”

“That’s the most suspicious sounding-thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Is it? I like cleaning sometimes, it builds character.”

“You know what happened to Taejun, right?”

Soo-won stopped his mopping and turned to face me. “Yes. There was some kind of accident and he had to go to the hospital. Did you see him there?”

“Yes, and his brother too.”

“Ah, Kyoga. And how is Taejun doing?”

“Stable, for all I could tell. It could have been a lot more serious, you know.”

“I know.”

“It  _is_  serious.”

“I’m glad he’s in good hands then.”

“You do realize it’s suspicious, don’t you?” I pressed him, but tried to control how far up my voice echoed. This building was notorious for carrying echoes. “Injuries like that out in an alleyway don’t just happen.”

“But it sure did, didn’t it? Kyoga probably asked you to investigate, didn’t he?”

“You know him?”

“Haha! He pays Taejun’s rent, of course I do. He already asked me to look into it.”

“And? Will you?”

“It was just an accident, I’m sure,” he went back to his all-too-cheery mopping. “It’s all fine as long as nobody gets hurt.”

“Somebody  _did_  get hurt. For all we know, it could be an attempted murder.”

“That’s all the more reason not to get involved.”

I felt so caught by Soowon’s deep green eyes that I almost didn’t noticed his smile had faded. “Yeah,” I pushed out in response, “I know that.”

“I know you know. You’re probably the smartest one in this whole building! I’ll bet you’re tired after a long day at the hospital. I’m not done here, so maybe you should take the elevator.”

I agreed and excused myself. The exchange left me with an eerie chill down my limbs, and I hoped I wouldn’t run into anyone else on the way up to the third floor.

I got my wish. The journey to my room was swift and uninterrupted, and the familiar clink and thunk of unlocking the door sounded sweet to my ears. After pushing it open, I was greeted by an even sweeter sound.

“Welcome home, Yoon!”

Ik-soo brimmed at me with glee, surrounded by a collection of little indoor plants in various glass and ceramic containers spread out on the floor, the table, and the windowsill.

“What’s all this?”

“Yunho gave them to me,” he answered.

“Huh. That was nice of her. Did she bring some herbs too?”

“Lots of dill,” he nodded, tossing his ratty blonde hair about. “How was your day?”

“Long,” I replied. Taejun’s case still weighed on my mind. “Were you home all day?”

“Yes, I was.”

“Did you hear anything weird earlier this evening?”

He paused. “You mean, did I hear the voices of the gods? Then yes, I did.”

My eye-roll felt involuntary, but this time I managed to keep myself from asking if the voices told him how to find a job. I wasn’t always good at keeping that comment to myself, and it would be the same every time. He would apologize for not being able to do anything, I would apologize for letting off steam, and we’d both regret the whole conversation later. “Then what’d they say this time?”

“They said Yunho will be very happy.”

“I’d say that’s obvious, but alright.”

“She was so happy to hear it though, Yoon! It made me so happy to tell her. That’s why she gave me all these nice flowers.”

“It was a fortune-telling gig, you mean?”

“Well, it’s not _really_  fortune-telling, though she wanted to call it that. I really couldn’t, I only relay whatever the gods decide to tell me. It’s… heh… not much, really.”

I set my bag down with one loud jangle on the table. “Ik-soo, you can charge money for this. This is your one talent, you should use it.”

“I couldn’t accept her money! I couldn’t tell her anything more than that.”

“She offered you money?”

“I-I couldn’t take it! That’s why she gave me the plants. I couldn’t answer any of her other questions, I would have been making things up, and that’s not good.”

“The girl’s so loaded that she doesn’t even know what a real job is! We’re on a shoe-string budget as it is, the least you could do is give us another string to work with!”

“I would have been scamming her, Yoon!” he bit his lip and shrunk away from me, his voice beginning to crack. “I’m sorry I’m not like you. I would earn money if I could… I wish I could! I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. All I can do is try to take the high road in everything, and that usually doesn’t make any cash… sorry…”

We stood there in silence, save the squeak of his stifled sniffles and the hum of the light bulb. I couldn’t keep myself from regretting this conversation after all.

* * *

  
I couldn’t sleep, but that wasn’t anything unusual. I was used to it.

What I hated was that nagging echo in my head of all the conversations I had that evening. I couldn’t get very far from Ik-soo to let us cool down after our spat since we always spread out our mats next to each other on the floor of our room. The rooms in the boarding house were each meant for only one tenant each, but Soo-won gave us special permission to live there together so we could afford something on my income alone. He was a very lenient landlord, almost the point where you wondered if he could make a profit at all, as he was always the one to offer us discounted rates on the tight months before I would even ask, and he never even asked to see much proof. I couldn’t afford to get on his bad side, but I couldn’t afford much else either.

Being a nurse wasn’t the only way I could make money, and I knew it. 

I sat up in bed and looked over at Ik-soo; his nose and fingertips poked out from over the blanket and he had a faint snore. Careful not to wake him, I got out of bed and grabbed my bag from the kitchenette and hid in the bathroom, where I turned on the light and searched my bag for the business card in the pocket. When I found it I checked again to make sure Ik-soo was asleep, and then I dialed.

“Hello, Kyoga? This is Yoon.”

We went over a few basic details, and Kyoga’s gratefulness practically dripped through the phone. After that I opened a page of my pocket notepad and drew a diagram of the boarding house, labeling all the rooms and locations.

 _Front door_  
Stairwell  
Elevator   
Supply closet   
Room 100: Soo-won

 __  
Room 201: Taejun  
Room 202: Joon-gi 

 __  
Room 301: Jaeha  
Room 302: us

 __  
Room 401: Yunho  
Room 402: Yona

 __  
Room 501: Hak  
Room 502: Kija

_  
Alleyway (north): Taejun’s injury_

Our kitchenette window faced north. I sucked in a breath and took a peak outside, prepared for another scare like in the stairwell. The alley below was too dark for me to see a thing.


	2. The Case of the Unlocked Room

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yoon begins the investigation, under the guise of a concerned nurse rather than one who might sell out his neighbor for cold cash.

“Good morning, Doctor.”

“I’m a nurse. Good morning, Jaeha.”

I was on my way out, and he was on his way in. Typical party animal, crawling back now at 9:10 on a Sunday morning. The red tint in his eyes indicated he was still intoxicated. It didn’t bother him in the least. “Working today?”

“Not exactly,” I replied. “Did you hear what happened yesterday?”

“What sort of thing? I haven’t been watching the news.”

“No,” I lowered my voice, “Among the people here.”

“Ohhh,” he raised his eyebrows almost as high as his pitch. “I know what you might be talking about that. That lovers’ spat?”

“Lover’s spat?”

“The cute red-head upstairs,” he pointed. “The landlord’s cousin. She’s usually at with Hak lately. You know him?”

“The one on the fifth floor? Yes. That’s not what I meant, though.”

“That’s not what I meant either,” he grinned. “I’m pretty that’s not the only voice coming from her room lately, if you know what I mean.”

“I don’t want to know. Besides, I was talking about Taejun.”

“Ah! Taejun! That must have been who it was!” Jaeha snapped his fingers. “Thanks, Yoon, it was driving me crazy trying to figure out where I had heard that voice before.”

My inclination was to ask him how much of a hobby he had eavesdropping on everyone’s echoes, but I phrased it in a more useful way. “What were you doing yesterday? What time was that?”

“Me? Just at home, reading. That was maybe around five or six.”

“Can you get it anymore specific?”

He was about to answer, but with a glimmer in his eye he changed to a question. “Am I being interrogated?”

“Is there a reason to?”

“Did something happen to Yona?” he asked, his tone dropping to a serious one.

“No. But Taejun’s in the hospital.”

His droopy eyes went wide. He was probably gathering a number of suspicions as to why Taejun was there while he filed through all the echoed gossip he had heard, but he chose to reveal none of it. “What for?”

“A head injury. I’m trying to figure out how it happened.”

“Is it serious?”

“It could have been a lot more serious.”

“Did Hak do it?”

“Hak?” I shot him a questioning glance.

“That’s just—now, I’m not accusing him of anything—”

“You just did.”

“It was only the first thing that popped into my mind. Taejun sounded like he was causing trouble for Yona lately.”

“Did you hear Hak there too?”

“Knowing who did it isn’t going to change your job as a nurse, is it?” he smiled. I was caught, and we both knew it. He lowered his voice and got closer to my ear, and his liquory breath wafted toward me. “If you’re playing detective I’ll cooperate, but don’t do anything rash.”

“Then do you think it was Hak?”

“I don’t want to think it was, but that’s my only guess. He’s got a motive. That’s all, though.”

“You know an awful lot about this. Are you a stalker?”

“It’s not as if I go out following anyone! I don’t know where Hak was. I don’t want to get him in trouble if he doesn’t deserve it. You’re better off talking to Yona, but if I hear anything else useful, I’ll let you know.”

Not that I wanted to live across from one, but it would have been more useful to me if Jaeha  _was_  a more thorough stalker. He was right; if Yona and Taejun had been in a discussion yesterday evening heated enough for it to echo through the building, she was the best person to go to for information.

* * *

 

I didn’t really like Yona.

She and Yunho were the two princesses of the fourth floor whose families paid for them to live in the big city without a worry about their own financial well-being. I didn’t mind Yunho—she was spacey but industrious with her indoor plant endeavors, and we got along well with a meal exchange deal. Yona, however, would try to be a kind person, but utterly fail in the execution due to a poor understanding of how the world works. 

Early on when she moved here, she heard from Soo-won that Ik-soo and I have a special arrangement due to our financial situation, and she invited us up for dinner. It was a casual affair with pasta so simple even Ik-soo could manage to boil the noodles and open a jar of sauce without much incident, but she served it on a haphazard combination of plastic flatware and fine china with a delicate peony pattern on a pale pink base. I remember it well because I spent most of that dinner staring at it for distraction while she did her best to make conversation, but all she knew of us was that we were poor. Did we usually have enough to eat? How long had we been living at the boarding house? Did we make enough to cover the rent? Did we need anyone to talk to? No, I thought, we didn’t need anyone prying, and especially not if she lacked any basic understanding of how poor people can be more than their poverty. She didn’t even understand how rich  _she_  was, using fine china like that and not sparring a thought about giving a few pieces away to Yunho the very moment Yunho said it was cute. Besides being clueless and clumsy in all her attempts to be generous, I’m willing to admit that she’s probably does things like that because she’s lonely.

I decided to take the stairwell up to her room. It was brighter than I expected; I had never even noticed there was in a window up at the top floor. Soo-won had been busy yesterday; even the upper floors had been cleaned.   
  
When I knocked on Yona’s door she didn’t answer at first, but she smiled and said my name as soon as she opened the door a crack and saw me.

“Hi,” I said. “Do you mind if I come in?”

Her smile wavered. “Right now?”

“If now’s a bad time—”

“Give me two minutes to clean up!”

She shut the door, and then I heard a mad rush of footsteps and doors opening and closing. Her voice called back ‘okay’, and I took that as though I should let myself in. I was cautious and announced myself just in case. “Excuse me, I’m coming in.”

“Welcome,” she beamed, pulling the table into the center of her kitchenette and patting the chair next to it. I had never meant to get pulled so far in as to sit at the table with her. Her living space was more cluttered than I remembered it, probably as a result having been settled long enough to accumulate more things. There were three beanbag chairs against the wall and a trash bag nearby them, but not all of the junk food trash was in it.

“How are you settling in?” I asked.

“Just fine!” she chirped. “The first couple months of living on my own were a little hard, but I’m doing a lot better now.”

“Have you made many new friends?”

“New friends?”

I pointed to the beanbags and she lightly smacked herself in the forehead.

“Oh, those! That’s usually where Soo-won and Hak and I hang out, if we’re in my room. There’s not much room in the kitchen.”

“You’re telling me. Mine’s the same size.”

“How do you do it, Yoon? I make such a big mess in here when I try to cook, it’s like there’s no room to put anything.”

“You have to use your space effectively. Like making your own spice rack! See?” I pointed, “You’ve got everything strewn all over your counter—”

She put her hand to mine and guided our glances away from the mess on the counters. It stank like she hadn’t washed her dishes in weeks, and I figured she was embarrassed. I changed focus.

“Did you meet Hak when you moved here?”

“No,” she shook her head, tossing her deep red tresses this way and that. “Soo-won and I grew up with him. His foster father was friends with our dads.”

I felt a twinge of sympathy nip at my ears. “He’s adopted?”

“Not quite. Technically not. But practically the same. Hak just likes to rub that in when he gets in trouble.”

“Does he get in trouble a lot?”

“I don’t know,” she shrugged. “What counts as a lot?”

“So how about Taejun? Did you meet him when you came here?”

Yona frowned with her whole face—her forehead, her eyes, her lips, everything. “Yes,” she groaned.

“I take it you don’t like him.”

“Nothing against him, it’s just that he’s a creep!” she replied, but immediately thought the better of it a moment later. “I don’t like him, but I don’t hate him. I know he had to go to the hospital last night, I heard the sirens and I saw them take him. Soo-won told me something hit him in the head. I wanted him to leave me alone, but it’s not as if I ever wanted something bad to happen to him.”

 _Something hit him in the head?_ Not that he hit his head, but  _something hit him_?

“I didn’t think you did,” I said, doing my best to sound encouraging. “I’m one of the nurses who took care of him, so I’m trying to figure out what happened. Did you talk to him at all yesterday?”

She lowered her chin and her bangs fell in front of her eyes. “Yes.”

“Did he say anything that might give you any clues?”

“No.”

“What did he say to you?”

“He was just being a creep, that’s all.”

“Is that really all?” I raised an eyebrow and slid my hands into my pocket to grab my notepad and pen. “Seems you were loud enough for people on other floors to hear you.”

“He didn’t say anything that made it sound like he’d hurt himself or anything like that,” she spoke faster, her eyes tracking my actions. “And I sure didn’t do anything to him. I only told him not to bother me and he left. But it really didn’t seem like he meant to hurt himself when he left.”

“I’ve got that. I don’t think he’d have hurt himself either. Or if he did, he’s got very creative ways of doing it.”

“Then why are you asking me questions? Are you going to call the police?”

“Not unless I—I’m a nurse, that’s not really my job, Yona. I only need to try to find out how it happened.”

Her face was running pale. There was no reason to find her suspicious, any girl could feel the same way if they thought they were going to get in trouble with the law, or she might have even been jumping to the conclusion that there was a murderer on the loose.

“I—it’s okay, Yona! I’m not trying to do anything else!”

That was a lie. I wanted to turn someone in to make a profit, turning Taejun’s brush with death into my financial boon. Ik-soo’s face, with a disappointed look, came to mind.

“Is he going to be okay?” Yona looked me in the eyes. “Taejun.”

“Well—he’ll live, I know that much. I didn’t stick around late enough after my shift to get all the details.”

“Details?” she raised her eyebrows. “Wouldn’t you find out more at the hospital, then?”

“You know what, Yona? You’re right. Maybe they don’t need me to find out how it happened after all,” I stood from the table and backed toward the door, “But I’ll let you know if I have any other questions for you, alright? Will you help?”

“O… kay?” she looked befuddled by the prospect of anything she could do to help.

Yona saw to me to the door, and shut it, but that was it. I waited, then sighed and knocked.

She opened it back up. “What is it?”

“You forgot to lock your door.”

“Oh!” she giggled. “Silly me. I’m not in the habit of doing that.”

“You should be.”

“Thanks, Yoon,” she smiled, and that was the last I saw before her face disappeared behind the door. The lock was promptly latched.

I wasn’t sure what kind of creep Taejun was, but if he had been violent, I would have expected her to keep her door locked. If Soo-won and Hak were over so often, however, that might have hurt her common sense for common dealings between young men and young women. I scratched my head, at a loss for how to explain her behavior as anything but a spoiled rich girl having no idea how to take care of herself, and even then it was difficult to excuse. I try to be empathetic, but I can’t make myself stupid. 

* * *

 

Yunho wasn’t there when I knocked, so I went up to the fifth floor to see if I could get any information out of Hak. I knocked at the door at the southern side of the hall, but it was the door at the northern end that opened.

“Yes?”

Out stepped a young man with skin kept brilliantly smooth by long nights of restful sleep and a shirt ironed as though he always accidentally dropped all his laundry off at a dry cleaner’s (which, knowing him better now, maybe is not much of a stretch). I always felt like I should hate him, but I didn’t know him well enough at the time to have a reason to do so. He could be naïve like Yona, but at least he wasn’t so air-headed. “Oh, Yoon,” he said.

“Kija! I was knocking at Hak’s door.”

“At Hak’s? Here’s the trick, you have to knock really loudly or he won’t come.” So saying, he demonstrated, beating on the door with monstrous strength I had never witnessed in one human hand. “Hak!” he raised his voice. “Son Hak, I know you’re in there! _Hak_!”

After several more seconds of beating—which I had backed away from to keep the sound from rattling through my rib cage—Kija came to a stop.

He turned to me and said, “He’s not home.”

“So glad you could deduce that.”

“You’re welcome.”

I take back my previous comment; Kija could sometimes be far more air-headed than Yona.

“Do you want me to give him a message when he gets back?" 

"No, I can write a note if I need him. You’ve got your own things to do.”

 "Alright.“

 "Do you talk to Hak a lot?”

Kija scoffed. “I try! But sometimes he is confoundingly rude. Why, just yesterday I when I got home he came in right after me, so I tried to be nice and share some of my granny’s sweets with him. It was fine if he didn’t want them, but he didn’t have to snarl at me when he refused!”

I opened my notepad. “That was yesterday?”

“Yes, last night.”

“Around what time?" 

He rolled his blue eyes back as he thought. "Maybe 6:30? I took the 4:10 train back from visiting Granny, so I would have gotten home around then.”

“Can you be any more specific?" 

"6… 40, perhaps? I took a few minutes to put my things down and find my keys, so Hak came up right after me.”

“From the stairs, or the elevator?”

“The elevator.”

Proving to me how air-headed he could be, Kija continued to answer without the slightest shred of suspicion. I pressed on. “What was he like when he came home? Do you remember what he was wearing, or if he was carrying anything?" 

"I don’t recall anything like that, but I noticed he was all wet. Not soaked, just wet. He was a little flushed and said he needed to hurry up and take a shower.”

“Did he say where he had gone?”

“No, not that I recall. He was in a grouchy mood and didn’t say much.”

“I see,” I said, finishing my scratches against the paper. “That was around 6:40, right?" 

"Well, if I was walking fast, it could have even been 6:20.”

I squeezed my eyes then wrote it down with several question marks after it. As he watched my face, he grew concerned--–finally. 

“Is something the matter?”

“Yes. I’m trying to get to the bottom of some things going on.”

“What things?”

“One of the other tenants got a head injury yesterday, and I’m trying figure out why.”

He gaped; his fair skin became whiter than ever. “Who!?" 

"Kan Taejun, on the second floor.”

“Oh. …Ohhh!  _Him_!”

Something set his whole body ablaze. Not wanting to get burned, I took a step back. “You know him?" 

"He’s the one who’s been bothering the girl in room 402!”

“Yes, Yona. That’s what I gather. You knew about this?”

“Yes, one time—last Tuesday evening, I think–when I came in I saw him bothering her in the elevator. I yelled at him to stop.”

“Did he?”

“Yes, I startled him so he ran away. Scared him white in the face, more like it. After that, I told her she could always call me and I would be happy to escort her.”

 _Don’t you have a job?_  Was what I wanted to ask, but I stayed focused. “How did she respond?”

He sighed and his internal blaze got weaker. “She said she could ask Hak to help her instead.”

“You don’t need to take it personally. They’ve known each other for a long time.”

“That’s not what bothers me! She’s been at odds with him lately, telling him to stay out of her business. Judging by the look on his face when he came home last night, my first guess was that he had just had another argument with her.”

My pen scratched against the paper furiously.

He went on. “From what I’ve overheard, he says he’s trying to protect her. Sounds more to me that she wants someone to protect her from him!”

“Then you think it’s not just Taejun who’s been bothering her?" 

"Not in the same way–-Taejun is an outright creep!”

I paused. “And what would you do if she wanted help dealing with one of them?”

“I’d get rid of them!" 

I swallowed hard and took my time before staring back at him. He had his fist clenched and the fire was all in his eyes. Objectively, this painted him as my number one suspect with a full admission of motive and an incomplete alibi. Subjectively, I couldn’t suspect him at all. His honesty was too honest for him to be able to hide any guilt.

* * *

 

I’d be lying if I said didn’t suspect Hak by this point. A voice inside my head told me to stop wasting time and to call Kyoga right away and see if this thirst for justice would be satisfied with any old person to point blame at, but a deeper, more nagging voice (a voice not unlike Ik-soo’s) told me it wouldn’t be right to implicate someone on a hunch. If I already doubted Hak, then I told myself I had to try to prove my doubts wrong. If I couldn’t do that, I agreed to myself, then I would accuse him.

While I was in the elevator I made a deal with that voice that wanted to take the higher road of justice rather than the lower, easier, finger-pointing one. When the doors opened at the first floor, Yunho was waiting outside of it with her very intimidating boyfriend. She was dressed in a loose and lacy blouse with a skirt and sandals and carrying a dry umbrella, and he was in a light jacket and jeans. His arms were folded and his back was up straight, and he gave me a very direct look and a nod as he and Yunho stepped in. She smiled and waved and greeted me by name.

I headed for the front door, but it pulled away from my hand before I could grab the knob. It swung open, and I was blasted with the sound of angry voices.

“If this ever happens again—”

“It won’t! And I’m telling you, it’s not my fault!”

“Quit lying to me, Son Hak!”


	3. The Case of the Missing Creme Puffs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Observations from the neighborhood watch and a few comments from a social worker start pulling the noose of guilt a little tighter around Yoon's top suspect.

Hak stomped in so quickly that I barely had time to move out of his way. I was pushed up against Soo-won’s door when the other man followed him; he looked to be in his 30’s or 40’s and had a large scar on his right cheek. Hak marched straight to the elevator and turned to face the man while he waited for it.

“Quit hounding me. If you’re not going to listen, then I have nothing else to say to you.”

“Look, Hak, I’m trying to help. I’ve been trying to help this whole time, but you’re not even working with me. Hey! Look at me when I’m talking to you!”

The elevator doors finally opened. When Hak went inside he had his hands up to keep the man from following him inside, and he hit the button to close the doors several times.

“Hak—”

Hak was out of sight. The man let out a mix of a grumble and a sigh, and when he turned around, our eyes met. There was no way to pretend I hadn’t witnessed what happened, and I tried to lighten the air. “Are you… uh… one of his relatives?”

“Tch,” he scoffed with a wry smile. “I’m his social worker.”

My face lit up, but dread also churned in my stomach. “I feel you! I’m a nurse.”

His expression softened, like he had found a kindred spirit in me. “Then you know how it is.”

“Is everything alright with Hak?”

“You know him?” his brows knit upward. “I can’t overshare.”

“I’m worried about him,” I said. I worried in  _some_  sense of the word, anyway.

“Me too. I don’t know why he started backtracking like this. Maybe being out on his own in the world was too much stress for him.”

“What do you mean?”

“He’s barely aged out of the system. Moved into his friends’ place and said he’d be fine. He doesn’t want to rely on any of the adults in his life anymore, so he won’t tell us anything.”

“He’s got his pride to protect.”

“What’s he got to prove by punching some guy in the face!?”

My eyes widened. So did his, but for different reasons.

“One minute he says he did it, the next he tells me he’s not to blame. That he wasn’t in his right mind. That’s what we call an anger issue, but he has the gall to say he doesn’t have one! Argh!” The man put a hand to his temple and looked away. “Please excuse me, I’ve said too much.”

“Wait!” a reached out to him as he tried to pass me by. “Can you… can I get your name? And a phone number?”

His eyes lingered on me for a moment, trying to read my face. I did my best not to show any of the connections my brain was fearfully putting together. I had already told myself I couldn’t implicate Hak until I was  _sure_  he was the guilty one! But if Hak really was violent, then I couldn’t dive into this alone.

The man stuck a hand into his pocket, but found it empty. “Do you have a pen and paper?”

“Y-Yes,” I fumbled, quickly turning several pages away from my most recent notes. He took it, wrote something down, handed it back, then said a simple good-bye as he headed out. The note was only a phone number and his first name, Joo-doh.

* * *

 

After making a few notes, I went outside, turned left, then left again. It was time to investigate the alley.

The was no immediate trace of yesterday’s incident; the last of the drizzle must had washed away the footprints of the emergency responders and any of Taejun’s blood. There were big piles of trash there, some stacked well above my head, and there were old housewares, kitchen scraps, and tired looking, bright cut flowers strewn about. The smell made me gag; I could not imagine what business Taejun, who always liked to dress well, would have in this place. If he had come here and if someone wanted to harm him, the garbage and shadows would have provided plenty of cover even during the daytime. I peered around the piles, trying to imagine how a suspect like a full-grown man could fit among them.

Something above my head made a skidding noise.

I let out a shriek and tried to get away, but my back was square against the neighboring building. With nowhere to flee I looked up at what it was and saw Joon-gi, the man in room 202, staring back from his window.

“An awful stench, isn’t it?” he said. “People who don’t even live here toss all their rubbish here. Makes it easier for the beggars to find a meal, I suppose.”

“You—you see homeless people around here?”

“Oh, yes. This is such a dreadful area. Thankfully my daughter is safe away at boarding school.”

“…You can afford boarding school and you live here?”

“Ahem. That’s  _why_ I live here.”

“I see. That’s… that’s really terrible that you’ve got the window closest to this dump.”

“It’s truly awful. But that’s why I am the neighborhood watch committee. Self-appointed, I might add. Someone had to do it after all that toilet paper was going missing from the supply closet and someone started stealing my cream puffs from the communal freezer.”

“A committee is more than one—nevermind. Did you see anything happen here yesterday?”

“I didn’t see it happen. I have terrible eyesight, you know, especially in the dark.”

“…”

“But I _heard_  it happen.”

“You did?”

He smiled. “You’re referring to that boy’s injury, aren’t you? Terrible, isn’t it. That’s what he gets for loitering in an alley in the inner-city. What did he think was going to happen? My guess is that one of the bums got him. Maybe the tall one with the squirrel.”

“What exactly did you hear happen yesterday?”

His squinty eyes lingered on my notepad ready in hand. There was a hiss in his voice when he asked, “Why do you want to know?”

“I was his nurse at the hospital.”

“Is that  _really_  why you want to know?”

I felt caught for a moment. Before I could answer, he went on.

“You should be careful. If it wasn’t a bum that did it, you’ll be putting the target on your back next.”

“Would you please tell me what happened?”

“I was making myself a cup of tea when I heard the sound of ‘gyah!’ outside. I thought it was odd and it reminded me of Taejun—he’s my neighbor across the hall, so I hear him a lot, you see.”

“What time was that?”

“Oh, sometime between 6 and 6:30, I suppose.”

“And then what?”

“Well, I drank my tea, of course.”

“That was it? You only heard him, and that was it?”

“No, of course not! I was the one who called the ambulance.”

“Before you drank your tea?”

“No, after I had a few cups of it.”

“………Why didn’t you—”

“I decided there was no reason to rush. As long as he didn’t make any other noise like calling for help, I assumed he was fine.”

“When did do you finally figure out he  _wasn’t_  fine?”

“When I finished my tea.”

“So, about five or ten minutes later?”

He chuckled coldly. “Yoon, you’ve never had good tea, have you? You have to take at least half an hour. I already in the process of it when I heard him, so by the time I looked out the window, it was closer to 6:45. My kitchen cast enough light for me to see his legs very clearly, and I knew by the quality of his shoes that it couldn’t have been one of the bums, and I then I called an ambulance.”

“How much later did you do that? An hour later?”

“What do you take me for?” he huffed. “Of course I called as soon as I saw the body! They got here within ten minutes of me seeing him, and they had him on the stretcher and shipped out within a few minutes after that. I heard Soo-won go out and talk to them, and they asked him to contact his next of kin, and that was that, another job well done for the neighborhood watch.”

I didn’t even know where to start. Joon-gi took a sip of his tea then asked if I had any other questions. I said no, and thanked him for his important service.

* * *

 

It was about time to go run some errands before making lunch. Today I would have to make extra for Yunho, so it would require some extra effort as well. While I was out, I bought a canned coffee and took a seat in the deli area of the supermarket so that I could organize my notes. I wanted to get out of the boarding house to give myself a wider view of the situation. I started with a list of what I knew.   
  
 _“5 or 6” (according to Jaeha): Yona and Taejun talk/fight. Yona says he didn’t seem to have plans to hurt himself._  
Between “6 and 6:30” (Joon-gi): Taejun is struck by something and falls unconscious in the north alley.  
Between “6:20 and 6:40” (Kija): Kija gets home, sees Hak.   
About 6:45: Joon-gi calls the ambulance.   
About 6:55: The ambulance arrives and takes Taejun away. Yona hears sirens. Soo-won talks to paramedics.   
7:10-ish: Taejun arrives at the hospital and receives treatment.

 _Between 6pm and 6:45pm:_  
Rm 502: Kija arrived home at some point and talked to Hak on 5thfloor.   
Rm 501: Hak arrived on the 5th floor at some point. Grouchy, flushed, wet.   
Rm 402: Yona was likely still in her apartment after having been bothered by Taejun.   
Rm 401: Yunho was probably still out on her date and came back this morning.  
Rm 302: Ik-soo was home, I was at work.   
Rm 301: Jaeha stayed long enough to overhear Yona and Taejun, likely left before hearing sirens.   
Rm 202: Joon-gi was drinking tea and heard Taejun, later called the ambulance.  
Rm 201: Taejun was in Yona’s room at some point, and later in the alley.   
Rm 100: Soo-won was mopping the stairwell (???????)

I know he had to have been in there long enough to have mopped all five flights of stairs, and he was still doing it when I arrived home after 9. But when he did start? He was outside around 6:55 talking to the paramedics. He could have started after that and finished in two hours. But why would he do something like that after one of his tenants suffered a serious injury?

Soo-won had also spoken to Kyoga at some point between 7:00 and 8:00, and he told Kyoga not to make a big deal of this.

What did Soo-won have to hide?

I jotted down some other notes:

 _Soo-won, Hak, Yona: Childhood friends/relatives_  
Joon-gi, Jaeha: Nosy  
Taejun, Yona: Taejun was bothering Yona on multiple occasions. Witnessed by Jaeha and Kija (yesterday, Tuesday), confirmed by Yona (yesterday)  
Hak, Yona: Fighting, according to Jaeha and Kija  
Hak: In trouble with his social worker Joo-doh for punching someone in the fa–

My phone buzzed in my pocket. It made me jump, and I hurriedly pulled it out and flipped it open. “Hello?”

“Yoon? This is Kyoga. Taejun woke up!”

“Oh, that’s good. How is he doing?”

“It’s good, but he’s… not good.”

I furrowed my eyebrows. “Can you elaborate?”

“I asked him what happened, but he’s babbling on about something. I can hardly make sense of it. One second he’s trying to answer my question about the alley, and the next minute he’s talking about flowers, flowers everywhere, and of all things, a  _pineapple_ , and then he starts crying. Is he… is he going to be okay?”

“My guess is that he’s still medicated, but that’s a question for the nurses on duty. Is that all you can get out of him?”

“Yes. It’s been the same conversation three times in a row. He just gets a little more animated every time, and that’s making it more and more confusing to try to follow.”

“I’d take that development as a good sign.”

“Have you figured things out on your end?”

“Not yet, but I’m… you could say I'm making progress.”

“Do you know who did it?”

I paused, looking at the list of names. My eyes lingered on Hak’s. “Not yet.”

“Please tell me as soon as you can.”

“I’ll do my best. You have to remember that I’m not a detective by trade, but given your choices in the boarding house, I’m probably the best person you can ask. This might be unrelated, but have you heard anything about… well…”

“What?”

“Has Taejun been punched in the face?”

“Yes.”

“When?”

“When we kids.” He sighed and went on, “To be fair, he usually had it coming. Do you mean recently?”

“Yes. He hasn’t mentioned anything like that to you?”

“Not that I’ve heard. Let me ask… no, he’s asleep again. He’s got some bruises on the left side of his face, probably from hitting the ground last night, but that’s about all I can tell. Maybe if I look really hard there are some spots on his other cheek, but…”

“That’s alright. Don’t worry about it.”

“Why do you ask?”

I felt a knot in my throat, as though I was choking on silence.

Kyoga filled the pause. “Is there someone who would have punched him?”

“It was just a guess to see if there was,” I lied. “It could have been anything, not necessarily a punch to the face. I was only hoping for a lead.”

“What have you found out so far?”

“Ah! My battery! Sorry, I’m out of the boarding house right now and my phone’s about to die. Send a text if you get anything else out of Taejun!”

“Alri—”

“Bye!”

I slammed the phone shut with a loud clack and threw it on the table, as if that would keep the pressure to figure things out further away from me. It would be easy to make assumptions, but I couldn’t turn in an innocent person. I had to be sure before meddling with someone’s life, especially if someone like Hak already had a rough start. I would never be able to face Ik-soo if I did, and I had no choice but to face Ik-soo every day because of our cramped living quarters.

But we also needed money to pay for those living quarters. All I needed to do was find the truth and sell it to Kyoga. If Hak really was guilty, then it was his own fault.

To find out, I would have to talk to him. And I was going to have to get more information out of Soo-won too.


	4. The Case of the Fancy Salmon Lunch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In an effort not to implicate an innocent person, Yoon gets to know his top suspect a little better.

I had a monthly arrangement with Yunho to use her homegrown herbs, make an extra portion, and have her chip in for the ingredients. She was excited about this because it was a way for her to learn new recipes; I was excited because we got to eat nice food with fresh, fragrant seasoning that lingered in the kitchen for hours. If you closed your eyes and breathed deeply, you could imagine that you were in a kitchen warm with natural sunlight from a large window that didn’t face the brick wall of a neighboring building.

Today it was salmon and rice pilaf with a side salad. I told Ik-soo to go ahead and eat without me, since I had things to do. Today I was busy, so I figured I would let Yunho take her share from the Tupperware and then I’d scarf the rest and get back to work. I already had enough joy from the cooking side of things, the pleasure of eating was only a bonus.

I took the elevator up one floor and knocked at her door on the south side, and when she opened the door the scent of steam and rosemary wafted toward me. Yunho had her hair in a loose bun so her dangly earrings shone brightly, and she wore an apron over her frilly blouse. “Oh no!” she gasped and put her hands over her mouth. “I forgot!“

"Yes. Seems I caught you cooking something else.”

“I’m so, so, so sorry! I’m cooking for Geun-tae today. I’m trying out the chicken and veggies in the cute little aluminum foil packets that you taught me how to do. Please, come inside while I find you some cash.”

“That’s alright, I should have doubled checked with you. And I wouldn’t want to impose.”

“It’s no trouble at all, Yoon. Come inside!” she started pulling on my wrist, and due to carrying the Tupperware I couldn’t fight her. Inside, her big and scruffy boyfriend immediately met my eyes. Yunho smiled and said, “This is Geun-tae. I’ve told him all about you and Ik-soo and how nice you two are!"

"Pleased to meet you.”

“Same,” he gave me a simple wave.

“Now where did I put my purse… ”

I had a guess that their date yesterday had continued on through this morning, but there was no polite way to ask and confirm Yunho’s whereabouts between 5 and 7 last night. I took a more general approach. “Did you hear what happened to Kan Taejun last night?”

“Hmm? Who’s that? A TV star?"

"No, Taejun who lives here. He got a head injury and had to go to the hospital.”

“Oh, that’s sad,” she said. “Wait, which one is he?"

"The guy with the long hair and earrings.”

Yunho’s shoulders tensed for a moment. Geun-tae noticed this as much as I did. “Is that the guy?” he asked her.

“Ummmmm…”

“What guy?” I asked him.

“Yunho said there’s a pervert in the building.”

“What?” my jaw dropped. “Taejun was bothering her too?"

"You mean he’s already been bothering someone else?” he growled.

“Yona, across the hall.”

“Oh?” Yuno turned to face me. “I hadn’t noticed that, that’s terrible. She really has so much going on.”

“So much?” I asked. My hands itched for my notepad, but my hands were still full.

She frowned. “I used to think she was such a nice girl, but lately I don’t know. It sounds like a different man over there every night–-oh, although I know one of them is Soo-won. But I hear so much arguing lately, and…”

“And?"

She put her hands to her cheeks. "It sounds like she’s beating someone up-–there’s yelling, and then there’s big thumping noises, but then there’s all this laughter.”

“Hahaha!” Geun-tae slapped his knee. “That means she’s taking her safety into her own hands! Sounds like she’s practicing self-defense, good for her.”

“A-are you sure?"

"Of course. And if you ask me, Yunho, you’re probably safe from that pervert in your room because these smelly flowers could ward anyone away.”

“They’re not smelly, they’re fragrant!”

I cut in. “What’s been going on, Yunho?”

“I,” she hesitated, “I’ve been hearing things that bother me, that’s all.”

“Like what?"

"Like footsteps creeping up the stairwell, or very lewd noises like… Nevermind, it’s gross, I don’t want to talk about it. It’s probably nothing.”

“If you’re scared, it’s not nothing!” boomed Geun-tae. “The moment that pervert tries to bother you, I’m going to give him a piece of my mind!"

"Oh, Geun-tae!”

They embraced, and I remained stuck with Tupperware. Yunho noticed a moment later, gasped, apologized, and returned to looking for her purse. She found some cash, a fair amount more than her share of the groceries. I freed one hand and accepted, and then as she saw me out she apologized again and suggested I share the extra portion with someone else.

That was what gave me an idea to go talk to Hak. It wasn’t the greatest idea for striking up a conversation with someone you suspect of attempted murder, but I trusted myself to make it work.

* * *

 

Minutes later I found myself locking eyes with Hak at his doorway. He seemed as surprised as I felt awkward. Now that he was towering over me in a tank top, I had a good understanding of how easily he could have overpowered someone like Taejun. “Um… hi!”

“Hi.”

“I’m Yoon from Room 302. This is a little bit sudden, but I made too much food, so, do you want to have lunch together?”

I held up the Tupperware (open to give him a tantalizing whiff of the aroma and an eyeful of the masterfully prepared ingredients) and tried to look as innocent as an experienced nurse could muster. Hak leaned closer to get a good look, then asked in a flat tone, “You accidentally prepared too much salmon?”

My shoulders sank. “No. I usually make extra for Yunho in Room 401 but she forgot today.”

He stood back upright with a smile. “Ah. In that case, I’ll help you out with it, thanks. Hang on, I’ll grab a plate.” So saying, he left the door partway between closed and open. He returned shortly with a plastic plate and a large spoon, ready to dig it in.

I drew back from the attacking spoon and fumbled for words. “Ah—er—I thought it’d be nice to eat together, if you’re not busy. Is that alright? I understand if it’s not, you can still have the food.”

He peered at me a moment before replying, “Sure. Okay.”

This time he held the door wide open for me to walk in. His apartment was simple; the futon was covered with a dark grey bedsheet, there were some plastic dishes left out on his old coffee table, and the curtains were simple and dated. Nothing in there matched, there was some dirty laundry on the floor, but it wasn’t especially untidy. He motioned me to sit on the futon and then cleared away the breakfast dishes.

“I hope you like dill. I usually cook with Yunho’s herbs.”

“It’s fine. Do you usually eat with her too?”

“Sometimes, depending on what we’re up to.”

“You’re the guy who lives with that other guy, right?”

“Yes, he’s my… he’s Ik-soo. You’re Hak, right?”

“Yup.”

“I heard you’re friends with Soo-won and Yona.”

“Yup.”

“Ah. They’re nice.”

“Yup.”

The lack of things to say didn’t seem to bother him, and he dug into the food with his spoon. He served us two equal portions on two plates, and asked if I wanted anything to drink. I said water would be fine and thanked him. The tap water tasted as bad from his faucet as it did from mine.

“This is good,” he said while chewing his first mouthful.

“I know, right? It’s just the right amount of lemon.”

“I wouldn’t know. You like to cook?”

“It’s one of my talents.”

“Cool,” he said. He took another bite, but he stopped mid-chew and his dark eyes grew wider. He took a quick glance back at my face. “You were there this morning, weren’t you?”

“Yes,” I gave him a wry smile.

“Don’t worry about that! That was just some guy I know.”

“Your social worker.”

Hak flushed red and he averted his glance. Having already taken the plunge, I went on.

“Yona mentioned you were in foster care before. You don’t have to be embarrassed about it.”

“If you can even call it that. I’ve been living with Gramps for as long as I can remember, it’s not as if I was tossed around the system or anything.”

“Neither was I.”

The depth in my tone caught his ear, and he looked back as if pressing me to go on.

“I was never put in the system. I was tossed around between family members until Ik-soo showed up and took me out of it. We were scared for years that social services would eventually catch up to us and ask for paperwork. Nothing was ever official.”

“So that means he’s not…”

“No, he’s not my father.”

“I was going to say your brother, but okay. Does he have a job, or just you?”

“Only me. I’m smart enough for both of us combined, so I skipped high school and got into a trade school, and started working before I graduated.”

“That’s impressive.”

“I am impressive, but it’s because I didn’t want to deal with welfare and have them dig up paperwork that doesn’t exist. What about you? Your social worker is still on your case?”

He put a hand to his forehead and sighed through his nose. “Technically I don’t have a case anymore, I’m aged out. I got into fights as teen sometimes, and that was ages ago, but he never lets me live that down.”

“Can I ask what happened?”

“I punched a guy in the face.”

“I was hoping for a little more context than that.”

“Something came over me, and I took it out on him. I never meant for it to happen, I wasn’t in my right mind,” he shrugged. I narrowed my glance at him, as this was sounding exactly like some of the patients I’ve had. He took notice, and offense. “Don’t stare at me like I’m some kind of drug addict! That’s exactly what it was, but I never meant to ingest anything like that. Not that anyone will believe me when I say so.”

“It was something you ate? How can you accidentally ingest something like that?”

“It was a mistake I will never make again. Forget it.”

“Hak, wait, I’m a nurse. This sounds like something serious. When did this happen?”

“Tuesday. It was this past Tuesday. It was sitting around in my apartment so I ate it and I didn’t think much of it, but I started feeling weird about an hour later. Like I had all this pent up energy. So I went outside for a run, but then when I came back, there he was, picking on Yona. Or I heard he was being a creep, I don’t remember exactly how I knew. I was still so pent up that it was like all my anger went right to my fist, and next thing you know, I ran up and punched him.”

“Where was that?”

“Right outside the building. It was broad daylight, so someone must have saw. Joo-doh said he got a call from some neighborhood watch committee or something.”

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. “What about the guy you punched?”

“It was one of the guys on the second floor. He’s been avoiding me ever since, but for all I know he still went after Yona after that.”

My hand started moving for my notepad in my pocket, but I resisted. We had plenty to get to the bottom of, and recording it would have to come later. I never imagined narcotics were involved!

Hak was calmer, like his thoughts had drifted somewhere else. After a moment he spoke in a low voice, saying, “I don’t think Yona knows that I punched him. Don’t tell her.”

“Alright,” I promised. We sat in silence for a moment, and I recorded the details in my head. My best guess was that Hak had punched Taejun. That would make it seem more likely that Hak had also attacked him in the alley last night, but why would he openly admit to one act if he wanted to hide the other? Taejun didn’t seem like the kind of guy to take something like that lightly, why didn’t he complain to anyone after being punched in the face? Maybe because he knew it would shed light on how he had been bothering Yona?

“She doesn’t tell me anything anymore.”

His words shook my thoughts. “Yona?”

He nodded, sinking his chin behind folded hands. “I’m worried about her.”

“Because of Taejun?”

“Taejun’s easy. I’m more concerned about who else she’s spending time with lately. She’s been so shifty, and gets mad whenever I try to ask. She chews me out and says it’s none of my business. What is she thinking? Of course I’m only going to get more worried about her safety if she’s hiding things!”

“Well, I don’t know for sure, but I heard she might be practicing self-defense.”

“I could have done that!”

“What, her defense? Heh, Kija offered the same thing.”

A deep grimace shadowed Hak's face. The change was so sudden that I drew back a bit. He wasn’t like this when we were talking about Taejun.

“By the way, Hak, what were you up to yesterday? The guy across the hall from me said he heard Yona and Taejun arguing about something. I was at my shift, it but it had me pretty concerned when I heard about it later.”

“They were?” his brow furrowed. “When was that?”

“Around 5 or 6.”

“I was working out.”

“And you didn’t talk to Yona at all after that?”

“Not since Thursday, no. Is she alright?”

“As far as I can tell she is. But when I checked in on her this morning, it didn’t seem she wanted to talk about it. After all, Taejun was—”

“…Was what?”

He was leaning toward me and focused. He was hanging on my words, but for what? To be informed of Taejun’s fate, or to pounce on me the moment I said something that could expose him?

“…Was in her apartment when they were arguing.”

His eyes flashed wide. “He was?”

“You didn’t know that?”

“But it couldn’t have been Taejun,” he thought aloud, wrapped up in whatever web he was spinning in his own head. “She wouldn’t have had to—”

_Knock-knock-knock-knock!_

We both jumped at the sound at the door. Hak acted like he recognized it and called for the knocker to hang on, and after a few large, quick steps, he opened the door. There stood Soo-won in a light sweatshirt and jeans, holding a package of sweets with a sunny look on his face. “Hey, Hak,” he said, “I had to replace Joon-gi’s crème puffs, so I got an extra package that we could spli—ah? Yoon?”

“Hello,” I nodded my head to him.

“Come on in,” Hak said, “We were eating lunch.”

“Oh, did Yoon make it? Yunho always tells me how good at it is. Could I try a bite?”

“Help yourself,” I answered, and he borrowed Hak’s spoon and plate.

“Wow,” his eyes lit up, “That’s the perfect amount of lemon.”

Something wasn’t right with Soo-won’s cheerful tone. It was too cheerful, as though he was trying to cover something else he was feeling. My heart started racing and my hands felt cold.

“You want a plate?” Hak asked him, ready to head back to the kitchenette.

“No, I already had lunch, thank you. What brings you up here, Yoon?”

“I-I made too much food. And Yunho already had other plans.”

“Hmm, with her boyfriend, I suppose. That’s great that you guys get along so well as neighbors.”

“Actually, we had never spoken until today,” Hak said. “But it was nice. He’s a cool guy.”

“And he’s really smart! Did Yoon tell you he’s a nurse?”

“Yeah, you did mention that, didn’t you?”

“Yes. That’s why I’m not around much to socialize. I thought I’d take advantage of a Sunday while I have it.”

“His roommate Ik-soo is a really nice person too.”

I felt myself getting paler by the second, but there were no openings to give myself an escape, so I stayed there through another several minutes of small talk and a couple tiny crème puffs. When it started getting closer to 2pm, I thought I could give myself an excuse to leave, but Soo-won spoke faster, with the same smile that hadn’t left his face since he walked in.

“Yoon, would you mind helping me unload some groceries into the storage closet?”

* * *

 

What room did I have to refuse? Soo-won was going to find a way to speak to me in private one way or another. We said good-bye to Hak and I followed him to the elevator. In there, he hugged the crème puffs and stared off with a hum in his voice, and then we turned straight to the supply closet. It was large enough for us both to fit comfortably among the shelves of cleaning supplies and items like brooms hanging on the walls, and he closed the door behind us and went straight for the freezer. He put the crème puffs away, then turned and faced me with a glare.

“I thought I asked you to drop it,” he said.

“Not explicitly,” I replied.

“Hak’s got nothing to do with Taejun.”

“He’s got the most plausible motive. He practically admitted to using violence against him earlier this week.”

“He didn’t do it.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“I’m his alibi. Hak was with me in my room when it happened. Listen,” he sighed, softening up his tone with exasperation. “I’m trying to avoid getting everyone worked up over a silly thing. I’ve got it handled, alright?”

“You’ve got what handled, Soo-won? What exactly is going on around here?”

“Everything! I’m the landlord, what goes on inside this building is my business, not yours,” he took to a smile again, one gentler than the one plastered on upstairs. “I take responsibility for everyone who comes through my doors, even if it’s the small things like Joon-gi complaining about stolen crème puffs.”

“If it’s in your building, sure,” I said, a hiss become increasingly apparent in my voice, “but what if it’s outside of the building, in the alleyway?”

His smile was gone; it was replaced by something colder than those crème puffs, and a whole lot less sweet. He walked forward, I backed away until my spine banged into one of the shelves, and rolls of paper towels toppled around me. I flinched, and upon opening my eyes, Soo-won was inches from my face.

“Remember that you’re always only one big expense away from not paying your bills, Yoon. I’m telling you this for your own good; leave it be.”

We faced each other a few more seconds until he asked if I understood. “Yes” was all I could say. He seemed pleased with that and told me to remember saying so. He left the storage room first and I heard his apartment door open and close, and then my knees gave way beneath me and I sank against the shelves.


	5. The Case of the Suspicious Mole

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alarmed by some new observations, Jaeha partners up with Yoon to get to the bottom of the case.

Soo-won was scary, but I had a feeling that whatever he was hiding had to be even worse.

A few minutes passed before I crept out out of the storage closet and took the elevator back up to my room. Ik-soo, as always, was right there in plain view when I came in, and this time his smile at me very quickly faded to concern. “Yoon, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I lied. “I need to go use the bathroom.”

“Should I find you some medicine?”

“No, just leave me be.”

“A-alright…”

The bathroom and the closet were the only places I could have any privacy from Ik-soo, which was why I usually found places to hang out elsewhere, like the deli section of the grocery store. My phone rang in my pocket, so I wished I were back there instead of one thin wooden door away from Ik-soo’s ears.

“Hello?” I whispered into it with my hand cupped around my mouth. When the other party began to speak, I grabbed a towel and wrapped it around my neck and mouth to help muffle the sounds.

“Yoon, this is Kyoga. I think you were right, that was the medication talking earlier. He’s more lucid now.”

“That’s a good sign. He’ll probably be fine.”

“I don’t know about ‘fine’…”

I frowned. “What do you mean by that?”

“I asked him first if anyone punched him in the face, and he said yes, but he said he was fine and didn’t want to talk about it. He wouldn’t even tell me who it was. I tried asking him who hit him in the head, but he says he didn’t see them—I don’t think he’s lying about that. Trust me, he’s not good at lying. But then when I asked him what he was doing in the alley in the first place, he didn’t say anything. He started acting pouty and then tried to hide his face with a pillow, and he hasn’t said a word to me since. He’s been hiding behind this pillow for a full ten minutes already.”

My frown got deeper. “Oh. That’s not usual behavior…”

“No, he’s like this whenever he doesn’t want to get in trouble. But I really don’t think he saw who hit him.”

“But maybe he knows how he got himself into this situation,” I said, already suspecting he knew he had been a bother to Yona.

“What a moment. I think… I think he’s crying? Taejun, knock it off! The pillow is soaked, use a tissue! I’ve got to go. Call me when you find out who it was.”

None of that seemed especially helpful, but it was good to hear Taejun was acting more like himself. If he didn’t want to tell us what happened, I was just going to have to go around him to get to the truth.

I started writing notes again:

 _Hak punched Taejun (likely) on Tuesday. Taejun likely had been bothering Yona (and not talking about it). Took place outside the building. Taejun was probably on the first floor.  
—–Kija yelled at Taejun in the elevator on Tuesday (?). Same time?  
_ _—–Yona told Kija she could go to Hak for help instead  
_ _———-Hak doesn’t want Yona to go to Kija (?????)_  

Too many assumptions, I thought, and I reminded myself to stick to facts.

 _–Hak ate something weird on Tuesday  
_ _–Saturday: Hak says he was working out (around 5-6)_  

At this, I tapped the end of the pen against my mouth and read back over my notes, checking my memory as I went. When I told Hak what time Yona and Taejun were supposedly arguing, that was when he told me he was working out. Soo-won, on the other hand, very specifically told me Hak was in his room with him at the time of Taejun’s injury.

 _Knock-knock._ “Yoon?”

“I’ll be out in a minute!”

I put my notepad away in a hurry and turned on the faucet to pretend to wash my hands, and then opened the door. Ik-soo hadn’t been waiting for the toilet; he had been waiting for me. His mouth wriggled around in struggle, and finally he spoke. “Was that a call from the hospital?”

“Yes. There’s a patient we wanted to keep a special eye on.”

“That’s so sad that they have to call you on your day off. You work so hard.”

“That’s what I signed up for. Don’t worry, I’m a genius at it.”

He said nothing. I could tell by the lines around his mouth that his eyebrows were knit in worry behind his bangs.

I rolled my eyes. “What is it?”

“The gods tell me there is disharmony among the people living here.”

“You don’t need a god to tell you that.”

“Are you involved, Yoon?”

“Me? No, I’m an outsider in all of this. But with all the echoes throughout the building, there’s always someone listening when there’s an argument. You’re here all the time, don’t you notice?”

“Oh,” he chuckled, “I hear them, but I don’t usually notice. The voices of the gods are much nicer.”

“That’s… nice.”

 “Whatever you do, Yoon,” he tilted his head so I could see his deep eyes, “Take the high road.”

* * *

 

I decided to lay low for the afternoon. Ik-soo and I lounged on the floor reading library books; his was an old fantasy novel and mine was a fascinating book about bacteria and how much of it is out there in the world, completely unseen but influencing everything. We had our lights on the whole time because the window never provided much naturally, so the only indication of the passing of time was the occasional glance at my phone. Around 5 we decided it was time to make dinner. I started making the rice and he started preparing our leftovers from Friday night. Upon taking them out of the microwave, however, he dropped them on the floor. We decided to heat up canned soup instead.

Around the time we were finishing eating, there was a knock at the door. I was quick to get up and answer it before Ik-soo could, and through the peephole I saw Jaeha. Jaeha felt he was being watched and smiled and waved.

“Yes?” I said as I opened the door.

“Hi there, Yoon.”

“Oh,” Ik-soo smiled from his chair back in the kitchenette. “It’s the man across the hall. Hello there!”

“Hello,” he smiled over me to him, then turned his attention back and lowered his voice. “Do you have a few minutes? We could go talk in my room.”

I doubled-check that I had my notepad in my pocket. “Let’s go. Ik-soo, can you do the dishes? I’ll be over with Jaeha.”

“Yes,” he said, less cheerfully. “What will you be doing?”

“I’ve got a mole I want a nurse to take a look at,” answered Jaeha, still smiling. Maybe too much for a potentially grave topic like that.

Ik-soo turned to me. “You sure you’re not too tired, Yoon? You have another night shift tomorrow.”

“I’ll be fine. This might take a while, though, we’ll probably have to do some research. Don’t wait up for me.”

I could tell by the way Jaeha hurried me over to his room and gingerly closed the door that he didn’t want any of our sounds to echo. It was the first time I had seen the inside of his apartment; it was stylish and the matching furniture and picture frames made the room feel much bigger than it was. There was a TV stand across from his futon and coffee table, and I couldn’t help but notice the suspicious titles on his DVD collection. One of them was left out with a woman on the cover wearing a tight leather suit and holding a whip. With another look around the room, I noticed a pair of hand-cuffs hanging on the frame of the back of the futon. That was none of my business, but I couldn’t help but wonder what sorts of activities had taken place where I was sitting. Thankfully I had too many night-shifts and Jaeha stayed out too many nights for me to have too clear of a guess.

Jaeha joined me at the futon with two glasses of iced coffee and he got right to business. “I overheard you in the supply closet this afternoon.”

“You did? Your ears amaze me, we weren’t even that loud.”

“I was going down to get the vacuum cleaner, so I stayed outside and listened. I didn’t like the way Soo-won was threatening you like that.”

I relaxed, feeling a little warm with gratitude. “I see.”

“You had a good point that it was his responsibility to investigate how one of his tenants was injured right around his property. The fact that he doesn’t want anyone to find out the truth makes me think he has something to hide. No one living here should have to feel unsafe. It’s been bothering me all afternoon, so I want to collaborate with you.”

Jaeha could be a little strange, but he seemed smart and was good at reading people. I appreciated the extra help and we started going over my notes and what I had found out so far. “Hmm,” he started after I finished, holding a thumb to his chin. “That makes it look like Hak, doesn’t it?”

“There’s not enough evidence to put the blame on him,” I said, “but also not enough to free him from it.”

“It’s possible Hak went out for a run while Taejun was in Yona’s room, and then when he got back he went to Soo-won’s room and was there around the time Taejun went out to the alley, and then he went upstairs before the paramedics arrived.”

“What bothers me about that is how long Hak would have been in Soo-won’s room. It was only drizzling outside, so he probably would have dried off more before going back upstairs to his room were Kija saw him. Suppose he did work out at 5, then stopped in Soo-won’s room around 6 to 6:20. That still would have left him time to step back outside to the alley, and then get upstairs before the paramedics arrived.”

“Hmmm,” Jaeha said longer. “Did Kija say anything else?”

“He said Hak was in a hurry to take a shower, and he was agitated.”

“That makes it sound like he wanted to wash the blood off before anyone saw. Goodness, Hak, you’re really trying to make a case against yourself here. Since they’re friends, it would even be reasonable to assume Soo-won is covering for him.”

“That's sure what it looks like,” I agreed, “But it still doesn’t seem like a complete story yet. Besides, this is just my hunch, but Hak didn’t even seem like he knew what happened to Taejun last night. That’s different from how he talked about punching someone—who I think we can assume was Taejun—a few days before.”

“That bothers me too,” he agreed. “I don’t know Hak that well, but I’ve always noticed how cool and dark his personality is. That said, I don’t think he’s ever been interested in causing trouble, that’s just the way he is, and I like him like that. I’ve always wanted to get to know him better.”

“Bring him food, that’ll work. I sympathize with him because a lot of the problems he’s had probably aren’t his own fault, but if he really did this to Taejun, he can’t escape justice.” 

“I suppose he certainly  _can_. If Taejun doesn’t want to talk about it, and if Soo-won doesn’t want to expose it, then the only one to bring him to justice is  _you_ , Yoon. You say you sympathize with Hak, and Taejun will make a full recovery, so is justice really worth it?”

His smile and droopy eyes square on me made me feel frozen on the spot. I didn’t care one bit about justice, but Kyoga did. Kyoga could  _afford_  to care about justice.

“There’s still a lot that doesn’t make sense to me,” I changed the subject. “Why was Taejun in the alley?”

“That  _is_ a good question. He wouldn’t say anything about that, right? If he didn’t see who hit him, he probably went there alone.”

“And Soo-won! Why did he think it was a good idea to start mopping the stairs on a Saturday night after one of his tenants was taken away on an ambulance?”

“That  _is_  suspicious. No one ever even  _uses_  the stairs. Maybe—just  _maybe_ —Taejun wasn’t injured in the alley at all.”  

“You mean, he would have been attacked in the staircase?”

Jaeha’s droopy eyes got wider. “That might make sense! It would be easier to pull him into the staircase than into the alley if the attacker had it out for him. Then he brought him outside to confuse people and make them think some homeless guy could have done it. It deflects all the blame.”

“Then—then you think Soo-won did it and was mopping up the evidence?”

“It could be.”

“Now wait, wait a second. Unconscious people are really heavy, trust me.”

“Oh, I know they are,” he smiled, but snarled in offense when I gave him a suspicious look. “When they’re  _asleep_ , not  _drugged._  Geez, don’t start suspecting  _me_  of anything. You’ll know more when you get older and have a place of your own. But now that you mention it, it probably would have been hard for one person to carry Tae-jun down the stairs.”

“Yes. Getting him outside to the alley would be one thing, but stairs are another.”

“But if it was  _two_  people—”

He stopped. We locked eyes and both started filling in the same details in our heads.

I spoke first. “Then Soo-won and Hak were colluding?”

“Yes! They could have dragged him in there after he was bothering Yona, hit him, and then carried him down the stairs together. Then Hak himself could have brought him outside and dumped him and gotten wet while Soo-won went to wash off and get changed. That way Soo-won was ready when the paramedics arrived later.”

“They’re both friends with Yona. They  _both_ would have a good reason to want to get him out of the picture.”

“That’s right!”

We stared at each other a few more moments to see if either one of us would think of something to add, but a doubt sprang to my mind instead. “Joon-gi seemed pretty sure he heard Taejun’s voice outside his window. And besides that, when Kyoga asked Taejun why he was there, he never said that he w _asn’t_  there.”

“I’m still not convinced. Soo-won had to have had a good reason for cleaning the stairs. Even if he doesn’t show it as much as Hak, Yona is still his cousin, so he had to have been worried about her.”

“He’s the landlord. He could evict Taejun is that’s all it was.”

Jaeha smirked. “What if it was Yona?”

I pondered it for a moment. True, Geun-tae had suggested she might be learning self-defense to deal with Taejun herself, and she might have gotten tired of having to rely on Hak for everything. She was also the last person to have spoken with him, and she didn’t want to share the details. However, there was one problem. “That’s not likely,” I shook my head. “The injury was toward the top of his head. She wouldn’t have been able to reach.”

“I guess not,” he shrugged, still amused at the thought. “Unless she did some flying kick or something, haha.”

It was getting later. I still had to get enough rest for my Monday night shift, and Jaeha told me I had already done enough for one day. “I’ll take it from here for tonight,” he said. “I’ll be listening. And since Kija is across from Hak’s room, I’ll ask him to keep an ear out too.”

I bit my lip. “I don’t know about that. Kija already has a low opinion of Hak and can be pretty brash, so if you tell him we suspect him…”

“I see your point, but I think we can count on him to keep cool if necessary. I’ll talk it out with him nice and calm, but if it looks like he’ll do something rash, I’ll handle it.”


	6. The Case of the Fallen Pineapple

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yoon returns to the site of Taejun's injury, and receives a clue from a man in the shadows.

I felt I could trust Jaeha to handle talking things over with Kija and went back to my room. Ik-soo was at the table and stood up as soon as I entered, saying, “Yoon!”, but his sudden movement shook the table and knocked one of the little glass vases from Yunho on the floor, thoroughly smashing it with a quiet shatter.

“Watch out!”

“Ouch–!”

It was too late, he already stepped on the glass. I put my hands up to try to prevent what happened next, but from the doorway it was hopeless. I watched, helpless, as Ik-soo set his other foot down in the water and slipped backwards.

_Smack!!_

I flinched, but when I opened my eyes, I saw a miracle. Ik-soo had caught his balance against the kitchen counter instead of smashing his head open on it. He caught his breath, then gave me a wide, accomplished smile. I found myself smiling in relief and applauding while shaking my head.

“I’ve gotten a lot of practice,” he laughed at himself.

“That you do. And you’ve got enough practice with foot injuries, so you take care of that while I clean up the glass.”

The lack of serious injury made me grateful enough not to mind yet another household incident. Yunho wouldn’t miss that little plant, and neither would we. I would almost call it a happy silence as we worked.

Ik-soo broke it by asking, “Was everything alright?”

“What? Oh, right. It’s probably not cancer.”

“Yoon,” he said, “You never take your work home. I know you’re hiding something from me.”

My cheeks grew hot. I wanted to avoid his glance, but I found myself staring back up at him anyway. I could see his eyes better from where I was crouching on the floor, and he wasn’t smiling.

“It’s because you’re trying to protect me, isn’t it?”

“Don’t worry. There’s nothing to protect you from.”

“Then who is going to protect you?”

There wasn’t much I could say that wouldn’t worry him. ‘Not to worry, Ik-soo, it’s just some murderer’ sure wouldn’t cut it, and neither would any falsehood I could think of on the spot. I chose to be silent rather than lie to him.

“Yoon, I know that look. You’ve got a puzzle. Whatever it is, you need to take a step away from it to see the big picture.”

“Is this advice from the gods?”

“There is someone you haven’t considered. Someone else in this boarding house you have not spoken to yet.”

I knit my eyebrows and searched my brain for a map of who all I had talked to. Aside from Taejun, I had spoken to everyone who lived here, and been inside all but Joon-gi, Kija, and Soowon’s rooms. Who would I have forgotten?

“Who?” I asked.

Ik-soo shrugged. “I don’t know. The gods only told me there’s another person involved. Involved in what, Yoon?”

 _Someone else?_  Someone else entirely was the one to have injured Taejun? I never answered Ik-soo’s question, and he gave up trying to press me.

* * *

 

We went to bed, but my mind failed to rest. What could I have not considered yet? Where would there have been someone else?

I thought back to Taejun’s injury. It was on the top back of his head, slightly to the right. Some sort of blunt force. It wasn’t surprising he didn’t see the attacker since they probably came from behind.

If he was in the alley when it happened, it would have been dark. The only light sources would have been from the four north-facing windows, and only Joon-gi’s was close enough to cast light near the ground. If the attacker had come from the mouth of the alley to the east, it would have easy to see their silhouette, which mean Taejun had to have been facing west into the darkness. If he was facing the light to the east, he would have had his back to the trash heap. The bruises from hitting the ground were on the left side of his face. When he was on the ground, his feet would have had the light from Joon-gi’s window cast on them.

Knowing all this I could try to recreate the scene of the crime to narrow down the possibilities of where the attacker had come from. If it was Hak, he probably would have come from the east, if it wasn’t… if it was someone else entirely… someone I hadn’t considered yet…

A _tap_ …

Another _tap_ …  
  
Footsteps faintly echoed to my ears.

Had I imagined them? Did I mistake my heartbeat for footsteps? No, they were slow, not in rhythm with my racing pulse. They echoed from the stairwell, slow as though trying to mask their presence.

The sound got closer. They must had been on the second floor now… the third…!!

I shut my eyes tight and put the pillow over my head. I had heard someone—there was someone in the stairwell!!

I took the pillow away a moment later and listened, but I heard nothing. By then I was much too awake to sleep. Maybe I really had imagined that sound, especially since Ik-soo’s warning had me so high-strung and wondering about strangers afoot.   
  
It wasn’t the only thought bothering me either. Having taken Joon-gi’s testimony at face value, I hadn’t checked the alley thoroughly enough for clues. With a harsh gulp, I gathered my courage, my notepad, and a flashlight and tip-toed out of the room.

* * *

 

My heart fluttered the whole way down the elevator, and the dim light in the hallway downstairs by Soo-won’s room made every shadow seem creepy and alive. It was a relief to exit the building, out on the brighter lit street in the still night air. With a deep breath, I turned on my flashlight and got to work in the alley. The second and third floor windows were dark and the fourth and fifth floor windows had their lights too high to be useful, so I could only rely on what my circle of white light could hit.

I started on the ground near Joon-gi’s window. There were some damp fast food bags passers-by had left there, and a banana peel, and many flowers more wilted now than they had been this morning. Upon a closer look, there was a variety of them—roses, carnations, even lilacs. All of them had been cut like they were for a very mismatched bouquet. I looked to see if there was any other trace of the bouquet, but a rustle deep in the garbage heaps of the alley startled me. I turned my flashlight in that directions, but all I could make out was shadows upon shadows.

They seemed still enough. I turned my attention back to where I stood, trying to imagine where Joon-gi’s window would have cast the light. I stood there, trying to imagine how he would have fallen by facing different directions. I tried facing into the alley first to see if the attacker had come from the east, but if my guess of Taejun’s height was correct it was fairly likely he would have hit an overflowing garbage can. That impact would have spilled it over, left him with a clearer wound from impact, and probably made a much louder noise to get Joon-gi’s attention.

That made more sense for him to fall the other direction, where the ground was flatter and he could have only made a soft thud, especially against the ambient sound of drizzling rain. That could have meant his attacker came from—

“Ahh!”

Something furry touched my foot! Not just touched it,  _ran over it._ I covered my mouth and screamed at myself inside my head to stay rational. It was only an animal there, a raccoon or something, there wasn’t a person—

There was a person.

He entered the alley from the east, so I could only make out his silhouette against the streetlights behind him. He was tall. Something glinted in his hand—

–it was a knife.

A  _knife_!!

I squeaked—not a scream, not a gasp, I only managed a squeak—and started to run backwards, but within two steps I tripped over the trash and rustled down into a heap of it. I covered my head with the flashlight and closed my eyes, waiting as he got closer—

_Pukkyuu~!_

“Wait, Ao.”

The man walked past me into the trash heap as though I wasn’t even there, save a brief look down in my direction. My flashlight wasn’t cast upon his face, but his yellow eyes caught every hint of light available and glowed down at me. On the other side of the little mound of trash I was lying in, he crouched down next to something scurrying about—and with my light pointed at it, I could see it was a squirrel—and he pointed his knife toward a lovely ripe pineapple.

I sighed with relief, only to fill my lungs with the stench of garbage on my next breath. It was plain to see now that this was a young homeless man and his pet minding their own business with no interest in mugging me (or worse). The trash rustled as I stood back up, and it caught his attention. He glanced at me again, and I felt the need to say something.

“Uh… you live here?”

He nodded.

I could think of nothing else to ask as I watched him neatly slice the rind off the pineapple, revealing fruit so yellow you almost didn’t need a flashlight to see it in the darkness. The squirrel chirped and squealed and ran about until the young man cut out a big slice for it to eat. With the rodent occupied, he cut out a second slice and offered it toward me.

“No, that’s alright, thanks,” I put my hand up in refusal. “You can have it.”

He put the whole slice in his mouth at once, and it finally occurred to me how important it was to meet him. Was this homeless man the extra person Ik-soo had referred to? If he lived here, then perhaps he had witnessed what happened to Taejun last night!

“Excuse me,” I asked, and he and the squirrel looked up and stopped chewing long enough to listen. “A man was injured here yesterday. The paramedics came and took him away after that, but I’m looking for someone who might have been here when it happened. Do you know of anyone who might have seen how he got hurt?”

He finished chewing in a hurry, gulped it down, then nodded and pointed to himself. I felt my whole face light up with hope.

“Please, tell me what happened!”

He hesitated. I felt more and more anxious with every moment he didn’t speak. 

At last, he said in a very clear voice, “Someone threw flowers out a window.”

“Really?” I asked, happy to hear any response at all. These flowers had to have come from somewhere; they came from above all along! But a bouquet of flowers wouldn’t have knocked him out…

“…and a pineapple.”

Aha! The pineapple! “Was that what hit him?”

The young man shook his head. I felt more confused. 

“Then what did?”

He hesitated again, longer this time. He looked back to the pineapple and cut another slice for the squirrel, then stood up and walked around to my side of the trash heap. He started searching the ground, pushing bags and scattered garbage aside. I was about to offer my flashlight to him when he held something up and said, “This.” 

I shined my light at it; it glinted so brightly that I had to wait a moment for my eyes to adjust. It was a large shard of china with a pale pink glaze and several petals of a peony.

It was a part of Yona’s set.

“What floor did it fall from?” I asked and gasped at the same time, taking it from him to get a better look.

He thought a moment, then said, “fourth.”

Yona lived on the fourth floor. Yona could have done it—she had a _reason_ to do it—and if she dropped something on him from above, that was how she could hit him on the top of his head.

I cursed under my breath at the shock of it all, and then hurriedly thanked the man and told him I would bring him food sometime. I ran back inside as swift and quietly as I could, but my heartbeat felt like it was loud enough to wake everyone in the whole building.

* * *

 

I finally took a deep breath in the elevator, seeing as I didn’t even feel I could breathe when going by Soo-won’s room.  _Soo-won!_  He had a reason to cover his cousin’s crimes! But what about Hak? He had been in on it too? No, maybe they were both hiding it from him. Or maybe he knew—

“Yoon!”

The moment the elevator door opened, I was met with Kija’s frantic face. He was at my door and Ik-soo was there too, just as perturbed to see me coming from that direction. “What’s going on?” I asked.

“It’s Jaeha! He’s in terrible pain, and acting strange.”

“Jaeha? What happened to him?”

“Someone punched him in the face!”


	7. The Case of the Stinky Stairs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few issues solved, but a bigger mystery is on hand! Why has this incident happened, and what else is she covering up?

I was momentarily stunned. Why would anyone punch  _Jaeha_  in the face? Was it Hak? Did Hak have a reason to keep Jaeha out of this? 

Ik-soo looked over at me with a struggle but also a doubt about where I had disappeared to and said, “Sorry, Yoon, I was trying to tell him you need your rest and he should take him to the hospital instead…”

“Where is he?” I asked Kija, ready to get to work. We left Ik-soo behind and took the elevator up to the fifth floor, and because Kija had left the door unlocked, we wasted no time in getting in. His room was full of white furniture so basic that it seemed no one had ever taught him the meaning of decorating, so Jaeha’s sprawling form on his bed stuck out like a cactus in a barren dessert. His left cheek was swollen, and he was moaning and holding his stomach as he rolled this way and that. His eyes were glazed and unfocused, and he didn’t seem to notice when we came in.

I didn’t know where to start, and looked to Kija for answers.

He gulped and stared at the man on his bed. “I had a bad feeling about him and found him in the stairwell,” he said as I got to work assessing Jaeha’s vitals and helping myself to Kija’s miniature fridge to find something cold to put against his cheek. Kija went on, “His room was locked, so I carried him back up here.”

“You  _carried_  him?”  

“Yes,” he said, changing tones as he caught me staring at him. “He said he heard something in the stairs and went to check it out, so that’s where I found him around the 4th floor. I went down the staircase first, but then when I couldn’t get in, I went back up here, and then back down to get your help.”

“You carried him by yourself, up the stairs?”

“Yes. Is that strange? Oh, I suppose it is, I should have used the elevator.”

“This isn’t making any sense, Kija. Back up and slow down.”

Jaeha howled with pain and clenched his stomach tighter. Kija took a breath and started over. “He came up here a couple hours ago to tell me about everything with Hak and Taejun. We talked for maybe an hour or so. He’s a pretty nice guy once you get to know him. Then when he said he was going back to his room, he said said he heard something and he wanted to check it out. He was already acting strange before that, though.”

“How so?”

He frowned as he pondered. “He was acting very loose and friendly with me.”

“Can you be any more specific?”

“Leaning against the wall like he couldn’t stand up straight, keeping his face very close to me. Touching my hair. Then he started shaking his head and moving away and laughing, and muttering something under his breath like his was confused, and then some sound caught his attention so he stopped, and then told me to go to bed while he looked for clues. I went back to my room, but for some reason, it bothered me."

“I’ll say.”

“Then I heard a loud noise, and that was when I ran down to check.”

“Did you see anyone else there?”

“No.”

I lowered my voice. “Have you seen Hak at all?”

“No, not since yesterday.”

Jaeha grimaced and sweat poured down his face. “It wasn’t Hak,” he squeezed out.

“Hey, you’re alive. Who was it, then?”

“Some… big guy…”

“Big guy?”

“…Nice ‘n… scruffy… like a pira— _bleeghh_!”

Kija and I scrambled to get Jaeha to the bathroom over the toilet. As he bowed before the porcelain throne, I looked back to Kija. “Were you guys drinking up here or something?”

“No, we only had some snacks.”

“A punch in the face shouldn’t do this. If it wasn’t alcohol, then my best guess is poison.”

“Poison!? He’s been poisoned!?”

I didn’t give myself half a second to think about it, but it sounded plausible—after all, we were already trying to track down an attempted murderer, why  _wouldn’t_ they try some other methods if someone was on their trail? “They tried to silence him!?”

“But… but who would have had poison? P… poison comes from plants, right?”

“Yunho! Oh, gods, but why would Yunho poison him?”

“Yunho? She’s the woman across from Yona on the fourth floor, right?”

Jaeha mumbled and stirred, his eyes were unfocused and his head was unsteady. “That’s right, her name’s Yunho… I think…”

Kija and I drew closer. “You think…?”

“I think I…”

“You what?”

He squinted, staring out at the distance. “I think I was flirting with her boyfriend.”

“…wait. You mean Geun-tae?”

“Uh-hhmmnn.”

“Jaeha! How lewd! No wonder she poisoned you!”

“No! No, wait, wait,  _stop_!” I shouted. “Yunho wouldn’t do that. Geun-tae probably punched you thinking you’re the pervert who had been bothering her.”

“Wha…?”

“Jaeha!” gasped Kija. “You’re a pervert?”

“Actually, now that I think about it, you probably are. Her room is right above yours, so she probably overheard those porn DVDs.”

“Pornography!?”

“Hey!” snapped Jaeha. “Those are works of art! And I only bring over consenting, _conscious_  adults— _bleeeggghhh_ —”

“For crying out loud,” I slapped a hand against my forehead. “He obviously didn’t consent. Why were you flirting with him in the first place? Was this really an appropriate time?”

“I don’t know,” he whimpered into the toilet. “I don’t even know. He’s not even my type! Ohhhh, just let me diiiiiie.”

“Don’t die in my bathroom!”

Jaeha yelled again in pain as he clenched his stomach, and I opened my mouth to tell him he’d be fine when–

“Who’s dying?”

“Ahh!” Kija and I both jumped. Hak was standing in the bathroom doorway, looming over us with his arms folded and a scowl across his face. Kija stood right up to face him with a claw-like fingernail against his chest. “Hak! What are you doing wandering into my room?”

“You’re the one who left the door open and started making all that racket. What’s going on here?”

“I’m die… dying…”

Hak gave Jaeha a calculating glance, then glared back at Kija. “What did you feed him?”

“Feed him? You think  _I’m_  the one who would poison him?”

“Yes!” he barked back. “What did you bring back from your grandmother  _this_  time?”

“This time?” I looked between the two of them. “Kija, what snacks did you and Jaeha have?”

“White Dragon Cookies, from my granny.”

Hak marched into the kitchenette and came back with a white box laden with tissue paper. “Are these them?”

“Yes. But don’t do anything to them, I haven’t had one yet.”

“That’s why you’re not the one with your head in a toilet!”

“Let me see those,” I stood up, then took a whiff of one of the thumb-sized sweets. For cookies, they were very shiny. The noxious smell immediately made me light-headed and recoil from the box. “Ungh! Ahgh! What is _in_  those?”

“Granny only said they were baked with love.”

“Ahhhhh!!” Jaeha screamed, his eyes wide and fang-like teeth gleaming. “They were an aphrodisiac! No wonder! _Uunghh_!”

“Whatever they were, they’re rancid now. No wonder Jaeha got sick. Why did you even put those in your mouth?”

Kija fumed. “Don’t insult my granny’s cooking!”

“Insult them?” Hak’s eyes flared. “Whatever you brought home  _last_ week was even worse. What was that candy supposed to be?”

“Candy?” I darted my glance back to Kija, who was starting to shrink away under everyone’s stares.

“It was… last week I was felt like I was going to catch a cold, so she gave me cough drops.”

“Cough drops are medicine, Kija! Hak,” I looked back at him. “Did you eat one?”

“Yes. I left it on my counter and then noticed it again on Tuesday, so I popped it in my mouth and didn’t think anything of it. It started kicking in a couple hours later,” he trailed off, cheeks blushing as he called to mind the events of that day.

Kija’s face went as white as his sheets. “Oh… Oh, Hak, I’m sorry.”

“Why?” I asked.

“Those have a very short shelf-life. I should have told you to eat it right away that night, on Saturday.”

Hak looked wild-eyed at Kija. “You  _knew_ they’d do that?”

“I-I don’t know  _what_  it did to you, but knowing how a few of my cousins reacted to them while we were growing up, I…”

“Kija!” I yelled. “What  _is_  your grandmother, some kind of drug distributor?”

“No, she’s a chemist.”

“Damn it, Kija! It’s your fault I’m getting treated like I’m a criminal!”

“But you  _are_!” he clenched his hands into fists and shouted back. “We all know what you did to Kan Taejun!”

“Kija—”

Hak was silent. I started to shake as I looked between them. If Hak wanted to, he could very easily put a hole through any of our faces. Even Jaeha was looking more nervous than pained as he stared up, waiting for someone to speak again. Hak blinked, then said, “You mean that I punched him?”

“Aha!” Kija shouted. “You admit it! You’re the one who beat him up in the alley last night!”

“Kija, stop—”

“I won’t stand for getting accused of something I didn’t do,” Hak glared back. “I haven’t even seen him since I hit him on Tuesday.”

“Wait!” I shouted, putting my hands up between them. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Now let’s all sit down and sort this out calmly, please.”

* * *

 

We relocated back to Kija’s bed. Kija and Hak dragged Jaeha back over and I helped to make him more comfortable. He seemed like he was in a little less pain than before, but his face was still green with misery. I asked if he was going to be sick again and he said, “Yoon, you stink.”

“Sorry. I haven’t had a chance to shower yet.”

“Kind of like… the stairs…” he trailed off and closed his eyes.

Hak paid close attention and Kija stayed respectfully quiet as I explained Taejun’s injury, Soo-won’s approach to the situation, Joon-gi’s recollection of the details, as well as Jaeha’s recollection that Yona and Taejun had been arguing.

Kija’s fist tightened. “He’s such a slimy jerk. I hate to say it, but he had it coming.”

“Punching him felt good, I’ll admit.”

“Let’s start there,” I suggested. “Hak, you ate the cough drop from Kija on Tuesday morning, correct?”

“A little before lunch, yeah.”

“And then it started making you antsy a couple hours later, so you went for a run, right?”

“Yes.”

“Kija, was this also the day you came home to find Taejun bothering Yona in the elevator, right?”

“Yes. It was around 4:15. I yelled at him and he was spooked and ran out the front door. I offered to help Yona more, but she said she didn’t need me because she has Hak.”

He perked up. “She said that?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.”

“And Hak, around what time did you punch Taejun?”

“Probably around 4:15.”

“And neither of you have seen him since?”

“No.”

“ _I_  haven’t, but how can we believe  _you_ , Hak? Yoon talked to Soo-won, and he said you two have conflicting alibis!”

Hak raised an eyebrow to me. “Come again?”

“When I asked where you were yesterday evening, you said you were working out. Soo-won didn’t know how you answered and said you were in his room.”

“And you were in a rush to shower when you got back last night—very suspicious!”

Hak looked befuddled for a moment, but then he hit his fist in his palm. “Ah! I see what you mean. I w _as_  in Soo-won’s room. He got a treadmill and weight set and invited me to go try them out with him. I was all sweaty after using the treadmill.”

“Oh, really?” blinked Kija. “I knew his apartment was bigger. It really fits that much?”

“Yeah. I didn’t think it would, but it’s a nice set-up.”

“Oh. Maybe he’ll let me try it out sometime too.”

“How about Yona?” I asked. “Did either of you talk to Yona since the incident with Taejun on Tuesday?”

Hak frowned. “I talked to her later that night, but I was still feeling weird. I…” he averted his eyes and turned red, “I was getting in her business too much. At one point I pinned her against the wall.”

“You what!?”

“Down, Kija! Was that it, Hak?”

“Yeah. That was when I knew something was wrong with me, and I went to sleep early after that.”

“Have you seen her since then?”

“I tried to apologize to her on Thursday. She didn’t want to hear it.”

“Was that all?”

He frowned and continued in a lower voice. “I tried to find out who she’s been hanging out with lately. She doesn’t want to say who.”

“That’s none of your business anyway,” Kija scoffed.

“I was worried about her safety! Anyway, we argued again, so I haven’t seen her since.”

“I haven’t run into her either.”

“And what about the pervert?” Hak pointed to Jaeha.

“I’m pretty sure he hasn’t talked to her or to Taejun,” I said. “But I talked with her in her apartment this morning.”

Hak sharpened his glance at me. “And?”

“They did have some kind of argument. Yona didn’t want to talk about it,” I said, feeling my words get quieter as I tumbled toward what was sounding closer and closer to the truth. “But a homeless person who witnessed it happen in the alley did.” I pulled out the shard in my pocket to show them and finished, “He said this was what hit Taejun. It came from the fourth story window.”

Kija simply stared, but Hak pursed his lips and fell into his own thoughts. I gulped and waited for his response.

“We should go down and talk to Yona.”

“I agree.”  
  
“What? Right now?” Kija looked between us. “It’s so late! I don’t get it. Why?”

“You stay here with Jaeha. We’ll take care of this.”


	8. The Stunning Conclusion--the Case of the High Road

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In a post-midnight confrontation, the final details of the case are revealed. Who was it who injured Taejun?

It was getting close to 1am. Hak and I exchanged glances in the hall outside Yona’s door. “You sure you don’t want to bring Soo-won for this?” I asked him.

He shook his head. “I think he’s been trying to help her cover for something.”

“That sounds likely to me too.”

Hak gave two soft knocks at the door, then grabbed the door knob as though this was what he’d usually do. He opened it a creak and asked, “Yona?”

“Hak!?” her voice rang out in surprise, followed by the sounds of shifting around and moving things and harsh whispers. Hak furrowed his eyebrows and pushed the door open, revealing Yona at her closet door, trying to stuff a man about her height inside. He had long, unbrushed blonde hair, a ratty green scarf and long, dirty coat, and a stench that made me gag even from a distance. He was eating a handful of crème puffs.

Hak stared at the Yona. Yona stared at Hak. I stared in disbelief, and the blonde man said, “Hi.”

There was no more use in trying to hide her putrid visitor, so Yona invited us all to sit inside while she explained. Yona and I sat on the floor while Hak and the other man sat on the beanbags. “His name is Zeno,” she said. “He’s a homeless guy I met a couple weeks ago while I was having a bad day. I didn’t really feel like I had anyone to talk to about it—if I told Hak that Taejun was bothering me, Hak would want to fix the problem himself, and if I told Soo-won about Hak, Soo-won would smile and ask why I don’t just let Hak handle it, and if… well, I don’t really have any other friends besides Hak and Soo-won. I was feeling so powerless, and when Zeno asked me for something to eat, I thought, ‘why not?’ and took him out to dinner. I found out that Zeno is really, really good listener. I felt so much better, so invited him home with me.”

“You did what?”

“See! I knew you’d get mad, Hak! Oh—please don’t tell Soo-won. Please?”

“What kind of single young girl brings a homeless man back to her apartment—”

“This one,” Zeno pointed to her. “It wasn’t going to be for free, though. Zeno offered to teach the miss how to protect herself.”

“And why did you accept?” Hak asked, still incredulous.

She puffed out her cheeks and looked away. “I thought it’d be nice not to have to trouble you so much.”

“I should be troubled if your misplaced sense of generosity is going to get you into danger.”

“I knew you wouldn’t understand! Zeno’s not like that at all! And besides,” she sounded more sheepish as she looked over to Zeno, “It’s not just that I was paying him to teach me. Zeno’s a good friend to me, so I wanted to let him sleep and eat indoors sometimes.”

“Aw, Miss, Zeno appreciates it. I’m glad I can be your friend, even if I can’t come inside.”

“Just a moment, Yona,” I said, rubbing my forehead as a few more of the pieces started coming together. “Letting him into your apartment is one thing, but stealing things is another.”

“Stealing? What do you mean?”

I pointed to Zeno’s handful of crème puffs. “Food, Yona! Joon-gi had been complaining about those going missing.”

“Ah!” she gasped. “Wait, those weren’t for everyone?”

“No, the freezer is only down there for extra space. You can’t help yourself to whatever’s there.”

Her cheeks turned almost as red as her hair. “Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”

I sighed. Typical rich person misunderstandings, I guessed. “It’s alright. Soo-won already replaced… say. Zeno, you’ve never taken the elevator, have you?”

“Nope.”

“We’d have smelled him there for sure,” added Hak.

“Soo-won must already know,” I said, much to Yona’s shock. “He helped cover your tracks. Or rather, he mopped them up. And now that I think about it, it must have been your footsteps that Yunho was hearing in the staircase.”

“Oops. Sorry, Zeno tried to be quiet.”

“So,” squeaked Yona, “Was that all?”

Hak and I looked to each other, then to the floor. It seemed he was going to let me do the talking, so I dug the shard of china out of my pocket and held it up to her, and by the look on her face I could tell she recognized it. “We came to talk to you about Taejun,” I said. “There was a witness when he was injured in the alley last night. A young homeless man with a squirrel said he saw this fall on Taejun’s head.”

“Zeno knows him!” the blond man volunteered. “That kid’s got really good eye-sight. If he says he saw something, then he saw it.”

“Yona,” I went on, “Would you mind telling us in detail what happened?”

She frowned, but under everyone’s expectant glances, she knew she had no room to escape. “He hadn’t bothered me for days after the man in the room above mine scared him and Hak hit him. Then yesterday he came to my room and said he wanted to start over.”

“Start over?”

“I don’t know what he meant. He was being so strange, saying he wanted to speak my language or something. He started talking about the flowers he brought, like which flowers meant what kind of love…”

“Aw,” smiled Zeno. “That’s sweet. He probably looked all that up himself.”

“Looks like that’s not her language,” added Hak.

“And there was a pineapple in the middle. He was saying it meant I was perfect. I told him he was nuts, and he said he didn’t bring any nuts. But then he said, ‘no wait, I have nuts! Really!’ and he had me against the wall, so I used what Zeno taught me and jabbed him in the ribs!” she said with some demonstration, which made Hak look surprised, curious, and mildly impressed. She continued, “he backed away and grabbed the flowers and said, ‘don’t take that the wrong way, just take the flowers, they’re my feelings’ and things like that. So I took the flowers. I took them and I threw them out the window.”

“Including the pineapple?”

“Including the pineapple.”

“Miss,” Zeno’s eyes were wide. “What a waste of a good pineapple.”

For the time being, I resisted adding that defenestrating pineapples was dangerous. “And what happened after that?”

She frowned. “He seemed really hurt by that. He looked out the window after them, and his voice was a little strange when he looked back at me, like he was about to cry.”

“And then?”

“He said that even if I don’t accept his feelings, even if I toss them out the window, they’re still his to keep. And then he left.”

“Probably to go gather his hurt feelings from the alleyway,” said Hak.

“Presumably,” I said, and then looked to Yona and held up the shard again. “Then, whether it was with lethal intention or not, that was when you dropped the dish on his head.”

Her eyes grew wide and wavered, but she sat completely still. Hak and Zeno turned their eyes toward her, and she began to shake.

I kept my gaze locked on her. “Well, Yona?”

“I… I didn’t.”

“But Yona, this is part of your dish set, isn’t it?”

“It is, but… I didn’t do it.”

I wanted to believe her. I really did! But if it wasn’t her, then who was it? I wished she’d hurry up and admit it so it could be out of my hands. If the poor couldn’t run from justice, then a rich girl like her shouldn’t be able to either. She could pay Kyoga for Taejun’s pain and suffering and then we would all be done with it. I wished she’d hurry up and admit it!

“If she says she didn’t do it, then she didn’t.”

All of us turned to Hak. He stared back at me, stern in his eye contact.

“Hak,” said Yona.

“It’s sucks being accused for something that’s not your fault. If she says she didn’t do it, then hear her out.”

“Let’s not rush into this, Lad,” said Zeno. “Miss, could anyone else have had the same dishes?”

“Yes, I gave a few of them to Yunho.”

“But Yuno wouldn’t have done it. She likely has an alibi and no motive. Plus, her room faces the south.”

“Lad, what exactly did the kid with the squirrel say?”

I thought for a moment. “He didn’t say much. First he said there were falling flowers and a pineapple. Then when I asked him what hit Taejun, he found the shard and gave it to me. Then when I asked what floor it came from, he said the fourth.”

Zeno’s eyes and mouth both swung wide open. “Oh no! That’s the problem!”

We all drew closer. “What?”

“The boy can’t count!”

It felt like a speeding car had gone to a screeching halt and crashed inside my brain. He couldn’t count?

“Zeno has tried to teach him, but he doesn’t pick it up much at all--well, not always, it's hard to know where to start counting with buildings like this. Do you start at a ground floor or a first floor? He always gets close, but on building floors he gets the numbers mixed up.”

“Then that means it could have been any of the floors on the north side, not only the fourth.”

“But then who was it?”

Even if the car that had been cruising along in my mind had crashed, the wheels and gears that had popped off were still going, rolling in every which direction. The dish that fell was not necessarily from the fourth floor. Something dropped from the height of Joon-gi’s room might not have knocked him out. Kija didn’t know Yona or Yunho well enough to have gotten the dish from them. Yunho would have had it, or she would have given it away to someone else. If she gave things away, it was usually plants, like the ones she gave to Ik-soo.

She gave plants to Ik-soo yesterday. Our room is the third floor over the north alley.

Now, even my breath came to a skidding halt.

* * *

 

Ik-soo and I had a long, long talk that night. I still can’t remember the last time I had cried that hard.

It started with me yelling and accusing him of not being careful enough, and telling him what he had done. Then it was him realizing it and apologizing for it. He sank in guilt, I swelled in anger. I lectured him about what this was going to mean for us now; especially if Kyoga wanted to hold us responsible. Ik-soo apologized, and looking deeper, he drew a confession out of me about only getting involved for the money, not for justice.

Ik-soo didn’t lecture me back. He knew he didn’t need to. Instead, he got us talking about what we were to do next; how we were to make amends, how we were going to brave a new financial struggle. He stroked my head as I sobbed, and he said we’d have more tough times ahead. But we’d do it on the high road, he said, and wherever it would take us, we’d go together.

It was a long and exhausting discussion, but I didn’t regret it in the least.

* * *

 

With my eyes still red and puffy, I got busy early that Monday. I started upstairs in Kija’s room by making sure Jaeha was hydrated and recovering, as well has having Kija and Hak present while I made a phone call. I used my position as a nurse to reexplain Hak’s situation to Joo-doh, and Kija backed me up by admitting he had not taken adequate precautions to warn Hak of the effects. Joo-doh was surprised, but understanding. Hak was visibly less stressed once he was cleared from doubt, and he accepted Kija’s apology. Jaeha, meanwhile, was happy he still had anything left of his insides. (He later apologized to Yunho for the volume on his TV downstairs, and they eventually became friends. Geun-tae was never sure what to make of this.)

Down at the bottom of the apartment, I caught Soo-won vacuuming the front hallway. He greeted me with a wide, cheerful smile. “Good morning, Yoon!”

“Soo-won!” I pointed at him. “What kind of a landlord are you?”

He paused and stared back, green eyes gleaming. “One who likes to clean?”

“No one should feel like their guests have to sneak around the stairs. The elevator is for everyone’s use.”

“Oh,” he chuckled. “That is a little unfair, isn’t it?”

“Speaking of unfair,” my volume dropped, “Ik-soo and I might need to renegotiate our contract again soon. We’ve had some expected expenses pop up that we need to take care of.”

His smile turned wry, and his eyes softened. “I was afraid you might.”

“We understand if you have your limits.”

“I do,” he nodded. “Let’s see first if you need it. There’s always other ways to make arrangements and work things out.”

I nodded back, my eyes still stinging from all the events of the past several hours.

* * *

 

After that, I went out to the hospital, where I had my most important arrangement to make. Kyoga, not expecting to see me until that evening, was very surprised that I showed up early enough to take some overtime hours. Before that, I wanted to take my time to explain the sequence of events to him, accept the blame on Ik-soo’s behalf, and offer him the money we had immediately available. There were the biggest bills I had ever taken out of an ATM, all smooth from their lack of transactional use. I promised that this would be the first of enough installments to cover the costs of Taejun’s treatment.

I felt that money in my hands longer than I had ever handled any cash. I had to wait several moments for Kyoga to process the information, and then put his hand to mine. He pushed back, shaking his head with such force that his long locks swished this way and that. “This isn’t necessary.”

“But it’s our fault—”

“It was clearly an accident, and you’re sorry. Besides, my brother has some fault for being out there anyway. He’ll recover soon enough, there’s no reason to press charges.” He looked over at Taejun, who stared blankly out the window. Kyoga let out a small sigh through his nostrils. “I only hope that his heart will recover soon too. Maybe I should push him harder to get a job.”

* * *

 

A few hours later, on my shift, I came in to check on him. Kyoga had gone home for the day, and Taejun was curled up on his bed with his knees against his chest.

“You should be able to go home tomorrow,” I said, forcing optimism.

“I don’t want to go home. I can’t face Yona. Ohhhhh, but I don’t have anywhere else I can move! I was delinquent on all my payments everywhere else, so that’s the only place that’ll take me in! That’s it! I’m going to be homeless! I’m a bum, that’s all I am! They should have just left me there in all that trash!”

“For what it’s worth,” I replied, “The homeless guys I’ve met are pretty nice.”

He sniffled and searched my eyes with his teary ones. “Are you sure?”

I assured him he would be fine, and in my heart, I felt Ik-soo and I were probably going to be fine too. As long as there was still a high road to take, we’d try to stay on it.

(But maybe we’d try to stay away from high windows.)


End file.
